Last year, my partner and I drove from Gloucestershire to Eyri national park in Wales, along the way we stopped at Mitchell's Fold stone circle on the English/Welsh border in some of the most dramatic landscapes of our trip. It was one of those unsettled winter days where the wind blew us half way down the hill and the light changed every couple of minutes, sheets of rain rolling past to make way for glimpses of sunshine, all movement. Except the stones of course which stand in the same place they've stood for thousands of years as storms and summer days, battles and births and deaths pass it by. They are the only constant in this amazing landscape, almost as if they were shaping the weather, making it swirl and eddy around the stones. Needles to say that place left a mark on me, and I then left some marks on a lino and inked them into paper.