People often swear the first time they see my work. I like that.

There is a child in all of us.

My work knocks people out; you’ve not seen the best of me yet.

I became obsessed with making more and more tiny things. I think I was trying to find a way of compensating for my embarrassment at having learning difficulties: people had made me feel small so I wanted to show them how significant ‘small’ could be.

People find it very, very difficult to believe what I’ve done. Scientists have seen my work and they can’t explain it. Even nano-scientists have seen it and been totally shocked. But if any man on Earth wants to challenge me, I’m ready. Bring it on.

I’m like a mad professor, but without the spiky hair.

At school I’d want to be so small that nobody could see me, and so my work depicts and reflects me – what it felt like to grow up in a world of pain.

I started making houses for ants because I thought they needed somewhere to live. Then I made them shoes and hats. It was a fantasy world I escaped to where my dyslexia didn’t hold me back and my teachers couldn’t criticize me. That’s how my career as a micro-sculptor began.

The microscopic world became my obsession.

The smaller your work, the bigger your name will become.