Born in 1974, grew up in an old Edwardian house, 30 miles southeast of London. Raised in army town Aldershot due to my nan, granddad and my dad all being in the army. As I grew up, I listened to chart music on a record player with radio and would try and copy the older lads down the park, body-popping and breakdancing, with a piece of lino, and a portable tape deck stereo. Punks and mods were still about, and for me, Adam Ant was the man back then. I used to spend time with my nan, she was a great teacher and mentor, utilising her calm persona to connect and open my mind to writing poetry, and the art of enjoying and utilising one's own company. A poem can be like an ice carving, keep chipping away at it until it is perfect. At other times, it can be almost instantaneous, and fall into your lap, almost as if the words are arcing from an unknown source. Be the writer at all times, don't just look, observe, as inspiration can spring from the most unlikely people, places and day-to-day happenings. Remember: Manners maketh man. Credit to William Hormon. Nice to be important, but more important to be nice. Credit to Roger Federer and Walter Winchel.
