Barbican, a residential estate in central London, is known for its brutalist architecture, almost a social experiment on how to live in an estate. I love walking around this area looking at the geometric shapes, the contrasting public spaces and the use of materials. The term brutalist originates from the fresh word for ‘raw’, and concrete is typically used as one of the main materials.The Barbican centre located in the centre is an arts centre and the largest of its kind in Europe, and was opened in 1982. The centre is used for classic and contemporary concerts, teatre, film screenings and art exhibitions, and houses a library, restaurants, cafes and bars. The areas’ architecture really invites you to go on a photo safari as there are great angles and light everywhere.

The fantastical shop front for the children’s literacy charity, the Ministry of Stories – which offers one-to-one writing tuition for local kids. The shop sells ‘Bespoke and Everyday Items for the Living, Dead and Undead’, including Thickest Human Snot, Compacted Earwax, and Tinned Fear. (And all their products make perfect presents for humans.) All proceeds go to the charity.

Built by my Dad and I in the rafters of an old peanut factory in Hackney Wick, I have slept and scribbled in this space for a number of years now. I enjoy being instantly confronted by the days task as soon as I wake. Despite the lack of natural light and paper thin walls this studio is great place to produce work. By far my favourite edition to the space of late has been my hammock.

Izakaya-inspired dishes, incredible music played through a proper audiophile set-up, in a beautiful looking and low-lit setting. What all restaurants should be like.

I’ve always been very fond of the ICA and its maverick spirit, less so in the latter part of this decade. These days the place is magnetic. To feel this incredible and unique place for arts and expression, breathing, breathing invigoratively, is rewarding to a London dweller or/and visitor. Its incredible transformation, revived from near death by Stefan Kalmár, is felt as soon as you enter the space, it feels open and alive, with vibrant and human energy in staff and visitors; risky, independent, engaging, resounding, and topical to our times programming, which is focused on breaking barriers in imagination an intellect rather than visitor record numbers. It is a breath of fresh air and an example what London art institutions are capable of if they open themselves to welcoming in an outsider and their passionate vision. And they have the best membership in town!