On Friday morning, my third day at Stiwdio Maelor, I caught the bus to Minffordd and went hiking up Cadair Idris.
It was a mentally and physically challenging walk up; my legs were screaming at me to stop and turn back with every step upwards I took, but the endorphins and the fresh Welsh air in my lungs were worth every ache.
Dotted around the landscape on the walk up the side of the mountain I spotted a number of patches of ochre yellow mud. I collected a few stones that were coated in the earthy yellow to try to extract the colour later when back in the studio.
I picked up a variety of rocks and slate to use for pigments on my walk up, too. The mountain had a much wider range of colours and pigments for me to collect in comparison to the other two field work locations I had visited earlier in the week, the lake and the quarry.
Walking up the mountain, breathing heavily and legs wobbly, I stopped a number of times to take in the views that were changing around me. The landscape was in a state of ephemerality as I moved around and up the mountain. The surrounding hills, trees and fields beneath me shifted as I moved away or toward them.
The mist closed in around ten minutes after I started hiking, but cleared after a half hour and the sun broke through at around 9am. I knew that this painting needed to have a sense of that ephemerality I felt on that hike, a sense of my own movement within the landscape.
Back in the studio that afternoon after my morning hike, I started making pigments for the Cadair Idris painting. I soaked the muddy stones in water to extract the earth from them and sieved the liquid through a very fine mesh.
After the water had dripped through, taking only the fine traces of pigment with it, I made the watery earth into paint using my gum arabic solution.
Alongside making the pigments for my third painting, I continued layering paint on the Aberllefenni piece and started to stitch together the Tal-y-llyn painting. It took a fair few adjustments until I got it right and was happy with it; pinning and unpinning - but I got there eventually and after stitching the panels together, my first painting from the trip was complete.
Saturday was forecast for heavy rain. I had been lucky with the weather this far on the trip - each day it had supposed to rain but ended up staying dry.
There was a two hour gap in the forecast and so I spent the early hours of the morning in the studio, abandoned my plans to travel further afield and instead decided to go somewhere on foot for my last field work trip of the week.
I decided to do the Corris village walk - something that was recommended to me on the first day I arrived at the village, which takes you up out of the village, through the woodland area of Abercorris nature reserve, and back down again.
I wanted to make work about the surrounding woodland area of Corris for my last painting. It is such a big part of the landscape I was staying in - and it felt right to make a piece so close to where I was staying - the woodland I could see in the distance from my attic bedroom window.
When I arrived at the woodland I took some graphite rubbings of the trees, which were still wet from the rainfall earlier in the morning and so made their own mossy, green impressions on the back of the canvas. I wanted to incorporate both sides of the rubbings into the final painting in one way or another.
I collected pieces of evergreen from the woodland floor, then collected mud and earth samples. There were also a number of large stones lining the footpath, which I took frottage traces of.
Back in the studio, I spent the afternoon making pigments then piecing together layers on the final painting, as well as working in rotation with the other paintings still on the go.
I soaked the mud and earth covered stones from the woodland to extract the pigment in the same way I had with the earth I had found on the mountain the previous day. I made a paint with shards of slate I had collected and used evergreen leaves pressed into the wet paint, which were peeled away after it had dried, leaving faint traces of their impression behind.