Once upon a time, I trained as a dancer at a conservatoire, where I read Merleau-Ponty, wandered the Tate, choreographed a tap piece in binary code, and learned to take myself very seriously. Then I moved to New York, became an artist, and learned to take myself not seriously at all.

These days you’ll usually find me hunting down quiet hidden cocktail bars with terrible lighting and ingredients I can’t pronounce, enthusiastically saving brilliant ideas into my Notes app at two in the morning (never to be opened again), or disappearing into a museum for far longer than intended.

Now I’ll shut up. I hope by now you have enough of a picture of me to feel comfortable introducing me to both versions of you: The Polished Professional, and The French Fry Thief (don’t you even try).

I’d love to coax that version of you out with curiosity, laughter, wonderfully unscripted moments, and just enough mischief.