On the weekend I went with my mum to visit my sister, who lives in South-East London. While we were there we went to the National Gallery to the Picasso exhibition. To start with a negative, the exhibition was very busy, which being a bit of a country bumpkin, I found slightly stressful. When I could fight past the hordes to get to the pictures, however, it was pretty amazing.

Now, I am not pretending to be an art critic. Although I like art and have an interest, I am definitely not knowledgeable, so this is really a personal impression of the exhibition rather than a critique. I have, however, seen Picasso's work in book etc., and (confession time) I was never particularly bothered. I even found some of his work grotesque – particularly the female nudes.

So, when it was suggested that we go to the Picasso exhibition I was interested, but not especially enthusiastic. But seeing the pictures in real life is really a totally different experience. The size and use of colour in the paintings is powerful. My sister actually felt nauseated (although, she claimed, in a good way) by the colours used in some of the pictures. The colour in a lot of the paintings is intensely bright. Some of the loudest paintings, in terms of colour, I actually found to be soothing. I think the intensity of the pictures was so overwhelming that it was weirdly calming.

One of the things that shocked me about the exhibition was that some of the paintings that I liked most were Picasso's pictures of women, including some nudes, which I used to find almost ugly. I think that in real life Picasso's affection for the women in his paintings (a lot of his subjects were his partners) comes across much more clearly. The expressions on some of his female subjects' faces are subtly and often beautifully depicted.

Aside from the exhibition we didn't do much in London. It's such an alien environment for me, although I actually enjoy it. Where my sister lives could not really be much different from Newport, which makes it fascinating. It feels like a frenetic and unforgiving environment. I really have to work hard to limit my natural clumsiness when faced with a lot of people and cars.

I often assume that everyone in London is going to be horrible, which is generally not the case – we actually came into contact with a lot of pleasant people – but I find it comforting to be in an environment where I know most of the people around me, so it was something of a relief when we drove back into Newport on Monday evening. A sense of calm descended. It probably won't take long for me to be bored of being at home though, I'm fickle like that.