So this is what happens when you let me throw expensive cameras in a swimming pool…

I don’t remember my first visit to Snowdonia being but a few months old, but thereafter, up until the age of 9, it was an annual fixed trip, deeply embedded in my consciousness. Even at a then epic 3.5 hours long, my childhood self knew the journey, the twist of tarmac, car piled high with self-catering paraphernalia, fishing nets and a plastic sand bucket. From the Anglo-Welsh borderlands of the south-east, across heartlands we travelled, till the rich sweeps of grass grew great glacial boulders, the oaks twisted into strange silvered shapes, and hillside sheep edged their way up ever more precarious shale slopes. In the passing blur beyond the windows, un-mortared stone walls morphed from rocky outcrops to section mountainous ridges of bracken and gorse against the sky. Beyond Dollgellau the road took us, up the winding Dinas Pass with it’s own strange weather systems, before the sudden rush of descent down to Abermawr and the glittering expanse of heather-edged estuary. Then we would turn north once more, along the coast where King Edward I sought to contain the Welsh and Owain Glyn Dwr marched.

More recently, when I was looking for a context in which to bring to life a short underwater film, it was the landscape of Snowdonia, with its rugged mountains and deep mysterious llyns, home to the Arthurian Lady of Lake, which ran off with the aesthetic and insisted on being present. In particular, the scenery around Cwm Bychan, where the exteriors were eventually shot, became the key location.

Since being shortlisted for the RTS Student Awards, I’m thrilled to finally release this out into the world.