Steven Hoy moved to London in 1984 and has been working in the City of London ever since. A lover of things that just work, his dislikes include the doorknob that must be waggled just so in order to perform its proper function, the invited guest who brings unannounced, another, and the extra sock that clings stubbornly. He believes that all things should have as few moving parts as possible and in keeping things simple. Eclectic music tastes belie easy categorisation, and Steven hardly ever reads fiction. A fan of skydiving until the gross waste of time became too much, risk is to be embraced. Things change and change is what life is all about. Reason is all we have, and what is must be. He occasionally underlines his point with the word “fuck”. Crowds of people bother him, but the infinite variety is reassuring. Rhythm and proportion matter. Moderation in all things is an aspiration which he fails to achieve all too often. There really is a teapot orbiting Mars, and if you don’t think so then take up the argument with someone else. He doesn’t get enough sleep, yet dreams all the time. He wants the world to be a better place for his having been in it, and wishes everyone would seek reward in this life, not the next. He’s happily married and the most beautiful girl in all the world calls him Daddy. He is suspicious of ideology, questions received wisdom, likes a competition of ideas and is keenly aware of how uncertain the world is. Most people seem to be more certain about everything than he is about anything.
