I gathered a mix of references and ideas:

• Works by Kate McLean, whose sensory maps reveal invisible smellscapes in cities.

• Research on the Proust effect, which describes how certain scents can instantly bring back vivid memories.

• Early thoughts on materials that could hold or diffuse scents — like absorbent papers, resins, or natural fibres.

Looking at McLean’s maps, I could imagine the scents, but it’s not the same as actually smelling them. There’s always something missing — something intangible. It made me realise how different smell is from other senses when it comes to documentation.

One piece that struck me was a pictogram of an apple. The designer had broken it down so clearly and beautifully — layer by layer — revealing structure in something so ordinary.

It made me think about my own practice. If I can learn to deconstruct everyday objects or sensory experiences like this, I might uncover unexpected ideas and forms. This simple apple reminded me that inspiration often hides in plain sight.

I tested a wide range of materials: grapefruit, oranges, kiwis, tomatoes, tangerines, lemons, cucumbers, onions, garlic, spring onions, and tea leaves. Many worked surprisingly well, retaining their scents and forms.

There were also some failures: high temperatures caused scorching, long drying times led to deformation, thin slices became too fragile, and some shapes (like onion rings) didn’t hold.

Despite this, it felt like a strong first step. These fast tests gave me a direct, intuitive way to explore smell, and revealed both opportunities and limits I can build on.

Many works focused on insects, and their forms reflected this: porous surfaces, layered structures, and openings that respond to non-human users. These textures immediately made me think of my own scent experiments, where similar porous structures might be used to diffuse smells more subtly and naturally.

What struck me most was realising that design doesn’t always have to serve humans — it can centre other living beings, or even entire systems. This shift in perspective feels valuable for how I might frame future projects.

During the Show and Tell presentation, sharing all these experiments together made me start to think more clearly about the future direction of my project. It also reminded me of the importance of developing a habit of sketching more frequently on paper to support and expand my ideas. Reflecting on this, I see these objects not just as outcomes, but as a process of learning how scent behaves in different contexts, and how that can shape future design ideas.

Working with digital tools felt exciting but also made me realise how much practice is needed to get comfortable. Beyond the technical learning, this process also made me reflect on the application and attachment of my designs — for example, what kind of wall the hook should attach to, what materials are suitable, and which fixing methods would work best.

It was a valuable first step into digital making, opening up new possibilities for combining physical and digital processes in my future projects.

As I walked around, I noticed how smell and memory are tightly connected. Being new to the campus, each space felt distinctive, and certain scents quickly became tied to specific workshops and activities. When I caught a familiar smell near a space, it instantly triggered memories of what I’d done there in this week.

This exercise made me realise how smell can function as a spatial marker, shaping how we remember and navigate places — something I’d like to explore further in my practice.

I then selected glaze recipes based on both the colour and surface effect I wanted to achieve. Mixing the glaze and applying it myself was an engaging process. I found it fascinating how small adjustments could lead to noticeably different results after firing.

Overall, this session made me realise how glazing combines scientific understanding with creative decision-making. It’s a process I genuinely enjoyed, and I see ceramics as a skill I’d like to keep developing in the long run.

Through this exercise, I realised how essential prototyping is for testing ideas, refining structures, and exploring possibilities efficiently. Working directly with materials allowed me to think through making rather than only visualising ideas in my head. I also understood that good prototyping can make the entire design process more effective and insightful.

This session has made me determined to develop a stronger prototyping habit in my future projects, using it as a core tool to support and enrich my design thinking.

At first, the cup looked uneven, but I realised those irregularities are part of the handmade character. I learned how different hand pressures and timings affect the shape and surface of the object. It was also useful to understand how to smooth and refine the form without losing its natural feel.

This session helped me build confidence in working directly with the material. It improved my sensitivity to clay and gave me better control of hand-forming — a basic but essential skill for future ceramic making.

I was fascinated by how she uses smellwalks, data visualisation, and cross-modal translation to connect personal memories with collective urban experience. Her approach shows how olfaction can shape identity and emotion within design.

Mapping these projects helped me clarify my own direction — exploring how smell can be integrated into multisensory design to enrich spatial experience and emotional connection. McLean’s work has become a key influence in understanding how sensory mapping can expand design beyond the visual.

We also covered how different colourants react under oxidation and reduction conditions, and how various glazing methods — dipping, brushing, and spraying — can create different surface effects.

Through this session, I gained a clearer understanding of how glaze chemistry and application methods directly influence the final result. It helped me develop better control and accuracy in preparing and applying glazes in future experiments.

At the Pitt Rivers Museum, the focus shifted to ethnological collections from around the world: jewelry, clothing, weapons, domestic tools, and objects tied to specific belief systems. The density and diversity of the displays revealed layers of cultural evolution and how different societies shaped meaning through material practices. I found the collections fascinating, and they expanded my perspective on how objects can encode identity, ritual, and embodied knowledge.

Many of these points were aspects I had not fully considered before. Their questions helped me recognize gaps in my thinking but also opened up new directions that feel exciting and more defined. What initially felt like uncertainty now feels more like a map. As I continue exploring these questions and testing possibilities, I hope the next iterations of my work can become richer, clearer, and more engaging.

Although the session was short, it made me think about negative space as a way of shaping form—how a cavity can define structure just as effectively as building something solid.

One useful piece of feedback I received was not to worry too much about drawing the whole object or getting every detail right. Instead, I should focus on patterns, structures, textures, and small essences that relate directly to my project—even if they appear abstract. Approaching sketches this way helped me loosen up and pay attention to the parts of an object that truly matter for my research.

Compared with past museum visits, this experience felt far more active and reflective. Sketching on-site forced me to slow down, look closely, and think continuously. The process of observing, drawing, and questioning created a kind of dialogue between the objects and the ideas already forming in my mind. It made the research feel more embodied, and the references I gathered feel much more meaningful for the next stage of my project.

I was especially drawn to the way ordinary waste was recontextualised: a crumpled chip bag became a sculptural form, a broken jar lid found new life as part of a mixed-media collage. The materials retained their original traces — wrinkles, stains, folds — making the works deeply tactile and honest.

This visit resonated with my own interest in materiality and transformation. It reinforced the idea that design doesn’t always require new materials or shiny surfaces — sometimes the most evocative textures and forms come from reuse. I feel inspired to think about whether some “waste” materials or by-products I know (from tea-drink packaging, scent diffusion, etc.) could be reimagined in my own projects.

However, working with wood revealed a significant problem: its high absorbency makes it unsuitable as a water container in its raw state. While the form itself worked well for testing, the material clearly doesn’t perform the way metal would. To resolve this, I plan to apply a protective coating on the interior walls to make the container waterproof. This will be the key technical challenge for next week’s development.

As we assembled and shaped the pieces, I couldn’t help thinking about the Ray Ward exhibition I saw earlier this week. His works also transform waste, but with a stronger emotional and expressive intention, whereas our exercise leaned more towards functional problem-solving. It made me realise how wide the creative spectrum of upcycling can be: from personal narrative and poetic reinterpretation to practical re-use and product-like outcomes. This session reminded me that discarded materials hold far more potential than their initial form suggests, and that “waste” can be both a medium and a starting point for diverse design directions.

For next steps, I plan to:

1. Reduce the overall size of the container to remove unnecessary mass.

2. Experiment with lighter rods such as ABS, carbon fibre, hollow tubes, or attach foam-like materials at the tip to balance density with buoyancy.

3. Decrease the hole count to help control evaporation more effectively.

These adjustments should bring me closer to a more functional and responsive prototype.

We were introduced to two welding techniques. The first was Resistance Spot Welding, for attaching the handle to the lid, which uses electrical resistance and pressure between two electrodes to generate heat and fuse the metal. The second was MIG (mechanical Inert Gas) welding, where a mechanically fed filler wire and a shielding gas (typically argon mixed with CO₂) create a controlled weld. I found MIG welding particularly challenging, as accurate welding depends on clearly seeing both the filler wire and the intended joint. Any visual misjudgment can easily result in welding in the wrong position.

This session reinforced how forward planning, visibility, and precision are essential in metal fabrication, especially when combining forming and joining processes.

A key takeaway was that Oscar said that I should be less concerned with the number of case studies than with how I use them. He encouraged me to be more explicit in framing each artist as a single case study supported by one dominant work and several supplementary examples. This does not require restructuring, but clearer methodological signposting.

The tutorial also highlighted the importance of relevance over interest. Each reference must demonstrably advance my research question, particularly in relation to multisensory integration, spatial experience, and emotional resonance. I was encouraged to strengthen my analysis by foregrounding supplementary sensory and contextual elements within each case, such as interaction, narrative, and cultural framing.

Finally, the discussion around ableism, touch, and olfaction prompted me to think more critically about inclusivity and embodied navigation beyond vision. This feedback has helped me identify concrete ways to deepen my cross-case analysis and clarify the value and impact of my research.

Beyond form, I began exploring surface qualities. I took inspiration from the rusted textures often found on radiators and experimented with torching the bamboo surface to create an aged effect. However, the change in temperature made the material increasingly brittle, causing cracks to appear and gradually deepen. Unexpectedly, these cracks became part of the ageing aesthetic rather than a failure.

This experience highlighted the importance of understanding material behaviour before final fabrication. While the outcome was visually interesting, it reinforced the need for earlier material testing and research. Developing familiarity with material limits will help prevent unforeseen issues at the final making stage, allowing future iterations to be more intentional and controlled.

As a scent diffuser, I reflected on my earlier experiments using natural ingredients. While conceptually appealing, most of these scents lacked durability, often lasting only a few hours, and tended to deteriorate in humid, poorly ventilated conditions. For this reason, I decided to temporarily return to using essential oils as a more stable scent source. Structurally, the final object was assembled as a pair of vessels—one vertical and one horizontal—each containing loofah “flowers,” forming a cohesive set.

There is a sense of regret that the final outcome differs from my original intention. The floating vase system, developed through earlier explorations of buoyancy and containers, ultimately failed to function as planned, leading me to adopt a more conventional vase form. However, this shift also clarified the technical challenges involved. If given more time, I would like to revisit and resolve the floating mechanism in future iterations.

In relation to my Research Objects, questions such as why make it and why is it important pushed me to articulate intentions that I had previously taken for granted. Similarly, reflecting on the technical skills workshops made me reconsider the tools and objects I produced—hook, cup, box, lid—and whether they actually functioned as intended. When something didn’t work well, the focus shifted from outcome to reasoning: why did it fail, and what does that reveal about my decision-making?

This session made me realise that evaluation is not an optional add-on, but a crucial part of designing and making.

Time management was another important lesson. I left too much work towards the end of the unit, which created unnecessary pressure. In future units, I need to plan my time more evenly across the term. On a positive note, working in different workshops helped me better understand their processes and time constraints. In Unit 2 and Unit 3, I aim to plan workshop use more strategically, work across spaces in parallel, and leave buffer time for failure and adjustment.

More importantly, they reminded me that both Unit 1 and Unit 2 briefs emphasise finished objects rather than finished products. This helped me shift my mindset away from being outcome-driven or overly focused on aesthetics, and towards exploration, testing, and process. I was encouraged to step outside my comfort zone, be more brave, and experiment more freely.

Looking ahead to Unit 2, I shared my interest in movement and mechanical systems. In response, the tutors recommended references such as Archimedes’ screw, synchronous motors, water clocks, and vortex cannons as potential mechanisms to explore in relation to scent.

Overall, this in-person session was extremely valuable and helped clarify both my direction and confidence moving forward.

Looking towards Unit 2, I feel a strong desire to introduce movement and dynamic systems into my practice. I want to explore different methods of scent delivery, such as smoke, air or water, and consider how mechanisms might create more interaction and engagement with an audience. I also hope to continue building technical skills through workshop practice.

Through self-enquiry, I identified what matters most in my making: developing strong concepts and narratives, creating emotional and memory-driven resonance, and translating non-visual sensory experiences into visual and physical forms.

First, I experimented with an air cannon / vortex cannon and successfully produced vortex rings. Seeing the rings travel through space made me realise how effective they could be as a scent carrier, since they visibly map air movement. The main challenge now is how to generate vortex rings continuously rather than as a one-off action.

I also tested using a water pump to create a small fountain or water tornado. This wasn’t successful, likely because the pump power was too low or the model too small. However, this led me to think about ultrasonic vaporisers, which can turn water into mist through vibration. Compared with smoke (which often contains glycerin), water mist feels more controllable and environmentally friendly as a scent carrier.

Finally, I made a simple air cannon using disposable cups. Its drum-like form required tapping to release air, which sparked an interesting idea: the possibility of linking sound and vibration with vortex ring generation. This opens a new direction connecting movement, scent and sound.

In my proposal, I described smell as inherently dynamic — it exists through molecular motion, diffusion, and interaction with the body. This makes the relationship between olfaction, movement, and audience engagement feel like a natural continuation of my practice. I plan to investigate how scent might be translated into visible processes through gas, liquid, smoke, solids, or even mould growth, allowing diffusion and interaction to become perceptible.

Ultimately, I hope that using movement will help me communicate the dynamic nature of scent more clearly and bring a stronger sense of interaction and experimentation into my Unit 2 work.

We talked about physical principles for containing and moving vapours in space, and I was encouraged to build quick and simple test rigs using inexpensive components to explore what is practically possible. This reinforced the idea that experimentation and iteration are central to Unit 2.

An important point raised was the context of my work. At the moment, it sits somewhere between an experience, an installation, and a potential lifestyle product. Clarifying how I want the work to be understood will influence future decisions. The tutor suggested considering integration with other elements, such as light, and thinking about practical factors like sound levels if the work becomes product-like.

Overall, the tutorial encouraged me to develop not only a conceptual methodology, but also a stronger material and technical process that can support future projects.

We also explored practical considerations when installing work in a gallery space. These included understanding the wall material (brick, plasterboard, timber), the weight, size and material of the work, and access factors such as stairs, doorways, ceilings and pathways. Thinking about installation early allows suitable fixtures and mounting methods to be chosen.

In terms of wall display techniques, we learned that artworks should generally sit at eye level (around 1.5m) and be carefully measured to ensure correct placement. Different fixing methods were introduced depending on weight: magnets for lightweight paper works, D-rings and anchors for framed pieces, and multiple fixings or brackets for heavier or sculptural works. We also looked at cable management and electrical safety, such as using trunking, clips and tape.

Overall, the workshop made me see exhibition building as a technical, logistical and safety-driven process that will be essential for future shows.

We then moved into visualising four of these terms using images, which started to shift language into a 2D visual system. This step helped me think about how abstract concepts can be communicated through composition, texture, and form, rather than text alone.

Finally, through fast making, we translated these ideas into 3D forms using different materials. This was the first time I felt I was really “digesting” the language from my CRP and transforming it into physical outcomes. The process was immediate and intuitive, and it showed me how much can be achieved within a limited timeframe when working quickly and experimentally. It also reinforced the connection between thinking and making in my practice.

Although still at an early stage, the test was both interesting and encouraging. It made me realise that while mist initially appears difficult to control, it can actually become much more manageable when combined with directed airflow. The interaction between air movement and mist began to produce visible patterns, suggesting that scent—through mist—could be shaped and guided rather than simply diffused passively.

This experiment also helped me better understand the relationship between invisible elements and physical systems. It reinforced my interest in using movement as a way to make scent perceptible, and gave me a clearer technical direction to continue developing in Unit 2.

During my hands-on attempts, I encountered several difficulties. Because I was not yet familiar with soldering techniques, I often applied heat for too long, which caused components to deform or become unusable. Even when connections were successfully made, I ran into issues with circuit configuration—such as incorrect series connections and mismatched power supply—resulting in frequent short circuits. As a result, I was not able to achieve the intended outcome of controlling multiple mist makers independently.

Although the experiment ultimately failed, it highlighted the importance of understanding both electronic principles and technical precision. It also showed me that integrating multiple systems requires more careful planning, testing, and iteration, which will be essential for future development.

One key point was the need to be more focused and structured. I have generated many ideas across my portfolio, proposal, and reflective journal, but they exist in separate places. Moving forward, I need to consolidate these into a clear set of tasks and priorities. This will help guide both my conceptual direction and making process.

Another important reflection was that my work may have been too outcome-driven and safe. I need to shift towards more experimentation, using tests to build knowledge rather than aiming too quickly for resolved objects. This also links to developing more dynamic forms of scent diffusion, exploring physical mechanisms and historical precedents.

Finally, I was encouraged to analyse my making more critically—evaluating what works, what doesn’t, and how my objects relate to my aims. Overall, the feedback has given me a clearer direction for Unit 2, especially in balancing conceptual thinking with material exploration.

In the ceramics workshop, I tested simple vessel forms with different perforations, exploring how hole size and placement affect how mist is released.

This experiment helped me shift from just producing mist to thinking about how to control and shape it through the container itself.

Alongside this, I also tested container and outlet forms, such as perforated dried pomelo peel, loofah sponge, and ceramic vessels, to see how form can influence the behaviour of these materials. I further developed my perfume formulation by adding emulsifiers, aiming to improve compatibility with fluid systems and protect small components like mist makers over time.

From the feedback, tutors encouraged me to deepen my technical knowledge and skill set, especially when working with unfamiliar materials and systems. This includes learning tools such as Arduino programming to achieve more controlled and specific outcomes, as well as continuing to study the properties of the materials I am using.

Working in a group, we designed and made an armchair based on this brief. It was our first time doing a workshop in a team setting, which brought a different kind of challenge compared to individual making. Beyond understanding the Memphis style, the process highlighted the importance of collaboration and coordination. Dividing tasks, aligning ideas, and managing time within a limited period required constant communication.Time management was particularly challenging—balancing each member’s workload and ensuring progress stayed on track was not straightforward.

During the final show and tell, I was especially impressed by another group’s modular sofa design, where components could be rearranged and reused in different configurations. This made me realise new possibilities in flexibility and system-based design.

Ede and his wife transformed a group of small houses into a living environment for art, where works by artists such as Kandinsky, Ben Nicholson and Henry Moore sit alongside everyday objects like pebbles, dried plants, furniture, and natural light. What stood out to me was the absence of labels and clear boundaries. Art and daily life exist together, making the experience feel intimate and personal rather than instructional.

This visit shifted how I think about display and context. It suggests that art does not need to be isolated or overly framed—it can exist as part of a lived environment, shaped by light, space and use.

Ede’s idea that “a house that is not lived in is a dead house” made me reflect on how my own work might move beyond object-making, towards creating more atmospheric, lived experiences rather than isolated outcomes.

Another work, Flora Lens Clear by Marcin Rusak Studio, encapsulates plants within resin. Seeing natural elements suspended in this way created a powerful sense of stillness and preservation, almost like freezing a moment of nature in time.

The most impactful piece for me was A Drop in Time, made from 452 hand-cut bog oak veneer pieces. The large-scale tree ring composition felt both meticulous and organic, combining human craftsmanship with the natural growth patterns of wood.

Overall, the exhibition was especially engaging because many artists were present alongside their work. Being able to hear them explain their process and speak with them directly made the experience more immersive and meaningful.

To address this, I tried emulsifying the essential oil by adding polysorbate 20 and glycerin into a water-based solution, aiming to improve its compatibility with bubble formation. However, during testing, the bubble solution struggled to form stable bubbles when mixed with either the fragrance solution or water. The bubbles were inconsistent and often collapsed quickly, possibly due to insufficient viscosity or imbalance in the mixture.

Although the results were not successful, this experiment highlighted the complexity of combining different materials and systems. It showed that achieving stability requires more precise control over the formulation, which will need further testing and adjustment.

Working in a group made the process both fun and challenging. It required constant communication and synchronisation to achieve even simple movements. During the final presentations, we received useful feedback—such as how the puppet’s character and narrative should inform its physical design, how body proportions affect flexibility and control, and how facial features need to remain legible from different viewing angles.

Overall, the workshop helped me understand movement not just as a mechanical system, but as something closely tied to intention, expression, and interaction.

The feedback I received was very helpful. Firstly, I was encouraged to think more clearly about the final form and purpose of the work. At the moment, my experiments feel somewhat gimmicky, which makes it difficult to define a coherent outcome. Secondly, I was advised to explore alternative ways of generating vortex rings, such as swinging or up-and-down movements, rather than relying solely on airflow. Thirdly, I was encouraged to experiment with different vortex shapes, extending beyond circular forms to linear, square, or multiple-ring configurations.

This crit made me realise the importance of making decisions more quickly about direction, while continuing to test a wider range of possibilities through focused experiments.

One key takeaway was the relationship between concept, skills, and making. The workshop highlighted how strong concepts and narratives need to be supported by technical skills and practical knowledge. Building a solid base of basic skills allows more complex ideas to be tested and developed through iteration.

Another important point was understanding the process as a cycle: idea → testing → learning → refinement. Rather than treating making as a linear path, it should involve continuous feedback between thinking and doing.

The tutorial also emphasised the importance of prototyping and putting things together quickly, even in rough forms, to better understand how ideas work in reality. Overall, this session helped me reflect on how to organise my workflow more clearly and balance conceptual thinking with hands-on experimentation moving forward.

In terms of layout and structure, feedback suggested making the portfolio more visually focused: using stronger cover imagery, including more single-image pages, simplifying layouts unless variation is necessary, and maintaining consistent chapter colour coding. Adding chapter summaries and clearer “where to go next” reflections at the end of sections would also help communicate the progression of the project.

For the proposal, I was advised to make the opening more direct and visually engaging by reducing text, using bullet points and images, and creating a layout that feels more creative rather than overly academic.

Overall, the assessment helped me realise that clarity, structure, and communication are just as important as experimentation and making.

Inspired by this, I tried to recreate the form of a dandelion using ceramics, hoping the structure could also work with mist diffusion. I wanted to capture both the visual delicacy and the sense of movement associated with the plant.

However, the attempt was ultimately unsuccessful. The ceramic “stem” I made was too thin and too tall, which made it difficult for mist to accumulate and travel upwards effectively. Despite the failure, the experiment was still useful because it highlighted the balance needed between poetic form and functional airflow. It also reinforced my interest in using natural forms as references for movement and diffusion in future iterations.

I also changed the form from a four-sided prism to a six-sided chamber. This allowed the mist tornado to be viewed from multiple angles instead of only one or two, making the movement inside the chamber feel more immersive and observable.

However, the larger mist generator did not perform as well as expected. Because its detector needed to remain submerged in water to produce mist, it caused water splashing inside the chamber. Although the mist output was denser, the overall system became harder to control. After comparison, I decided to continue using the smaller mist maker, as it provides a cleaner and more stable result for the prototype at this stage.

This experience made me understand the importance of accounting for tolerances during the modelling stage, especially when designing parts intended for assembly. Small dimensional differences after printing can significantly affect how components connect and function.

I also underestimated how time-consuming the post-processing stage would be. Sanding and refining the printed surfaces took much longer than expected, particularly when aiming for cleaner joins and smoother finishes. This reminded me that fabrication is not only about printing itself, but also about allowing enough time for adjustment, finishing, and troubleshooting within the making process.

The first major issue discussed was the limited diffusion range and relatively slow spread of scent and mist. Although the tornado effect is visually engaging, the actual atmospheric reach remains quite contained. The second point focused on how the overall form could evolve further, as the current prototype still feels quite functional and unresolved. The third area of feedback related to aesthetics and presentation, particularly the visibility of the fan and how wires and technical components could be organised more cleanly within the object.

Reflecting on these discussions, I realised these questions are not simply minor adjustments, but likely the key challenges that will shape my next brief and early Unit 3 development. Balancing atmosphere, functionality, and visual integration will become increasingly important moving forward.

One of the main challenges is the scale of the countertops themselves, as there are two large sections—one over three metres long and another over two metres. Managing and constructing surfaces at this size immediately raised questions around transportation, assembly, and structural stability.

At the same time, because the space is a functioning kitchen, practicality becomes just as important as aesthetics. Durability, safety, and maintenance all need careful consideration. We began discussing the possibility of using a modular construction approach, allowing the countertop to be assembled from smaller sections rather than as one continuous piece.

In terms of materials, we are currently prioritising options that are food safe, resistant to odours, or capable of absorbing unwanted smells effectively. This visit made me realise how differently design decisions operate when functionality, scale, and long-term use all become equally important factors.

I also observed the mist from different viewing angles to better understand how it diffuses through perforated surfaces. Because mist and scent naturally spread and disperse, I started to think that openings on the chamber surface could become an important formal and functional element within the project, rather than just ventilation.

The tests showed that perforation changes not only the visual quality of the chamber, but also how concentrated or dispersed the mist appears. This experiment helped me begin considering the chamber surface itself as an active part of controlling airflow, diffusion, and the overall atmospheric effect.

At the beginning, the process felt completely unfamiliar and confusing. I had to repeatedly watch others demonstrate each step before understanding how the movements worked. However, after gradually getting used to the rhythm and hand coordination, the process became surprisingly natural. By the end of the workshop, my hands almost kept moving automatically, and I found myself continuing to crochet even after the session had officially finished.

What surprised me most was how relaxing and addictive the repetitive process felt. The workshop gave me a new appreciation for textile-based making and how movement, rhythm, and repetition can become part of the experience of creating. Overall, it was a very enjoyable workshop and a meaningful introduction to a completely new skill.

Wood would create a stronger relationship with the existing cabinet doors, while the texture and finish of jesmonite could connect more naturally with the ceramic cabinet handles. This discussion made me realise how important material dialogue is within an interior space, especially when different elements need to feel visually connected rather than isolated.

The conversation then shifted towards the surface pattern of the countertop itself. A possible reference for the pattern design, suggested by Oscar, is the aerial layout of the former Millbank Prison, which previously occupied the Chelsea site.

These tests were aimed at exploring how mist and scent diffusion could become more effective in Unit 3, allowing fragrance to spread more noticeably throughout the surrounding space. Rather than producing a narrow and concentrated stream, I became interested in creating softer and wider atmospheric diffusion.

Using cardboard for rapid prototyping allowed me to test multiple forms quickly and directly observe how shape affects airflow and mist movement. This process helped me realise that the geometry of the outlet itself plays an important role in controlling not only airflow direction, but also the spatial experience of scent.

Interestingly, the overall appearance of the prototypes immediately gave me a strong steampunk impression because of their mechanical and industrial qualities. This made me question whether that aesthetic direction is something worth developing further, or whether it might distract from the more atmospheric and sensory aspects of the work.

Although these were still rough prototypes, the process helped me better understand how overall form can influence not only function, but also the emotional and visual reading of the object. It also reminded me that the appearance of a mechanism can shape how audiences interpret the experience before interacting with it.

The perforations allowed me to think further about how scent and mist might escape through openings and interact with surrounding space. However, after making the forms, I felt that the overall shapes were still too conventional and familiar. Although they referenced incense burners successfully, they did not yet feel experimental or distinctive enough for the direction I want the project to move towards.

Moving forward, I want to explore more organic and inventive forms, rather than relying on recognisable vessel shapes. This experiment helped me realise that the form itself should feel connected to movement, airflow, and atmosphere, instead of functioning only as a container.

One of the most interesting aspects of the exhibition was that the artist painted directly onto the gallery walls as part of the installation. This created a much more immersive and site-specific experience compared to a traditional framed exhibition, and it changed how I thought about the relationship between artwork and exhibition space.

The works I was most drawn to were those combining hybrid plants, flowers, and mythical characters. The way organic forms and imagined figures blended together felt both surreal and natural at the same time, and gave me inspiration for thinking about atmosphere, hybridity, and storytelling within my own practice.

The tutors also pointed out that I have recently focused heavily on the visual design and form of the chamber itself. While these explorations have value, they suggested that I may have drifted slightly away from the core technical investigations around mist movement, airflow, vents, fans, and diffusion systems. As a result, some aspects of the project have progressed more slowly than intended.

Another important reflection concerned documentation. I often document successful outcomes but neglect failed tests. The feedback highlighted that failed experiments can provide just as much insight as successful ones, and that a failed test without documentation is the only true failure.

What interested me most was the way the exhibition blurred the boundaries between the natural and the artificial. Many of the works felt simultaneously organic and futuristic, combining bodily, botanical, and mythological references into hybrid forms. Rather than presenting objects as isolated artworks, the exhibition created an atmosphere that encouraged viewers to move through and experience the space as a whole.

This resonated with my own interest in translating invisible or sensory experiences into physical forms. The exhibition reminded me that a project does not always need to communicate through function alone; material choices, atmosphere, and visual language can also shape how an audience interprets and experiences a work.