I don't enjoy living in a white box flooded with light. I like shadows, small spaces, old furniture.

I'm not too fond of really cool design. I've got quite kitsch taste really, in things like tableware. I'm quite a sucker for 1930s pressed glass.

Every decently-made object, from a house to a lamp post to a bridge, spoon or egg cup, is not just a piece of 'stuff' but a physical embodiment of human energy, testimony to the magical ability of our species to take raw materials and turn them into things of use, value and beauty.

As a property developer, I learned a long time ago to choose your battles wisely and that, unfortunately, compromise is a given.

Sustainability is now a big baggy sack in which people throw all kinds of old ideas, hot air and dodgy activities in order to be able to greenwash their products and feel good.

Every breath we take as human beings damages the planet.

Building your own house is a primal urge, one of those universal genetic drives like the need to provide for your family.