Inside The Workspaces Of Three Young Meanjin Creatives
GENERATION MUSE
By Natalie McGowan | 9th July 2025In the heart of Meanjin (Brisbane), a new generation of creatives is reshaping the way we view art, design, and making. Meet Indigo Stuart, Mel Dunn, and Alessia Emanuele – three vibrant young women whose home studios are as expressive as their practices. From slow fashion woven with care to colourful mixed-media artwork and whimsical ceramics, their spaces are reflections of passion, purpose, and personality.
INDIGO STUART
For Meanjin-based fashion designer Indigo Stuart, home much about material memory as it is about space. Her garments, woven directly on the loom using a zero-waste technique of her own making, are vessels of identity, rich with heritage, care, and tactility. “I think of garments as heirlooms,” she says, “objects that connect past and present.” Indigo’s practice is a quiet rebellion against fast, disposable fashion – working with soft, natural fibres like kid silk and alpaca to craft durable clothing. She creates best in a studio at home, surrounded by her own work, books on weaving, zero-waste pattern-making, and the Stuart Crest Badge her mother recently found in a jewellery box. “It’s a symbol of lineage,” she says. “Of connection.’
MEL DUNN
Painter, ceramicist, beader, and DlY enthusiast Mel Dunn’s work is as joyful as her space. Her journey began young, doodling and crafting, later evolving into a career in graphic design. Now, she balances her full-time role as a creative designer with content creation and a small art business. Mel’s work is inspired by fashion, Pinterest scrolls, and fellow Aussie artists, with Brisbane’s calm energy fuelling her focus. At home, her colourful, cosy and textured space is filled with art and handmade pieces, like a mosaic mirror crafted from sea glass she collected from European beaches on a holiday last year. Energised by feel-good playlists, Mel lets hues and rhythm lead her creative flow.
ALESSIA EMANUELE
Ceramicist and illustrator Alessia Emanuele doesn’t do sterile. Her studio – like her practice – is warm, nostalgic, and happily chaotic, fuelled by whimsy and a firm rejection of the “serious adult life.” Her work began in lockdown as a personal escape from corporate law, evolving from Instagram posts to Brisbane market stalls to a growing online community. She now runs a snail mail club, writes monthly letters, and is launching her first ceramics course – all while chasing poetic details in everyday life. “I’ll get inspired by a radish at dinner, or a line from Mary Oliver,” she says. “And I work just about anywhere – I’m always editing something random on my phone.”
