Looking out of the train window and watching the changing scenery pass by, I realised why I continue to do what I do.

It had been a good, though very tiring, day.

Leaving the house at 9.30 with my bag of paper planes, I headed for the station. I bought a £3.80 women’s magazine, which I only ever buy when I’m travelling. It’s a treat. I look for ones with free samples and this one had hand cream, which we were led to believe was usually £10. I doubted it, but it added to the feel of the day and it made me feel a little smug.

Although I now knew that my work was to be installed in a church, I only found out on my arrival that it was going on the altar . I was kind of shocked. I’d left my catholic upbringing behind a long time ago but I still felt very uncomfortable about it. More so, as I sat on one of the pews, eating my sandwiches and thinking how I should lay out the installation. Sacrilege.

I didn’t have much time. Once we had chatted, exchanged pleasantries, eaten my food and was given a much needed hot cup of tea in what felt like sub zero temperatures, I had barely two hours. The church was only open till 3pm.

I’d never set up an installation in that short of time, so I worked almost nonstop. Keeping to a very simple layout and concentrating on just filling the space. I was surprised to find 3pm coming round so quickly, but as no one had come to move me on, I spent 15mins or so ‘cleaning up’ the design and taking a few hurried shots.

Several people came into the church while I was there, mostly to view the architecture – glancing my way but not asking any questions. The few that did come over to chat were full of enthusiasm about my work and were keen to ask more.

I left feeling a huge sense of achievement.

Flicking through my ‘posh’ magazine on the 2 hour journey home and looking at the view from the train window, I realised how lucky I was.