You have two shows at Brisbane Festival’s Theatre Republic this year, the first running from September 16 to 20, and the second from September 23 to 27. We’re worried about your wellbeing during this busy festival season. How do you plan to keep those energy levels up?
My body is my temple. My mind is a holy light that shines from behind the altar of my eyes. Everything I put into the temple is balanced in perfect harmony to the resonating frequencies of the universe. Also, when you think about it, it’s only about an hour of work each day for two weeks, so no biggie really …

Your first solo show SQUIDBOY revolves around a lot of imagined beings. Where did the idea come from – did you have any imaginary friends or enemies as a child?
I was all alone in London. I was a year out of clown school, my romantic relationship was falling apart, I was having dark thoughts about giving up and settling down and getting a real job. I opened a cupboard to hang up my hopes and dreams when a stupid old polar fleece hood with ping pong balls for eyes fell to my feet. It had leapt from an empty cardboard box. And inside that box were all the ideas I needed to make a show.

The award-winning KRAKEN is played out on the ocean floor, please talk us through the stage set …
Imagine a floor darker than the bottom of the ocean, walls as black and empty as the multitudinous creatures that swim undiscovered by man. From out of this darkness protrudes a long, dark nothingness, covered by an invisible blanket of emotion. Or, for a simpler image, imagine a stage with nothing on it.

We hear it also involves nudity. How much are we talking – should we refrain from bringing our grandparents or awkward first dates?
My cock and balls are pleasing to look at for old and young alike. If you are offended by looking at yourself in a mirror when you get dressed for work in the morning, it will be offensive. But I don’t do anything weird with my nakedness. I don’t cover my balls with dairy-free chocolate syrup and spin around spraying the audience. I don’t fiddle with my penis while reciting poetry. I pretty much ignore my cock and balls*. I ignore my butt too. *during the show

We’re guessing you had a very active imagination as a child?
The imagination part of my brain grew at the same rate as my legs, and now as I stand at two metres tall, we can deduce that it’s doing pretty well. And if you don’t believe me, you can ask my teapot.

Can you remember the first time you ever performed in front of an audience? Success or fail?
I was learning violin so I decided to do some busking outside our local supermarket. I was young and cute and terrible at the violin. I made a lot of money but didn’t bring artistic joy to the masses. Later in life, I struggled with poverty as I began to make art of better quality. From this we can deduce that life isn’t fair and success is only measured by the maker.

When did you realise you wanted to spend the rest of your life creating and performing?
When I began to think about settling down and getting a real job, I realised that I have no talent for anything else. I never went to university. I could, but I’m five years away from being a qualified valued member of the world. Luckily I have an empty cardboard box full of ideas. That’s got value.

You spent two years learning the ropes at the prestigious clown school Ecole Philippe Gaulier in Paris. What’s one of your favourite memories – for good or bad reasons – from that time?
Paris is a magical city. I walked the streets in the evening as a light mist fell from the sky. Every step is cinematic, every thought is poetic, every cheese is stinky and every bottle of wine is cheap. I watched my friends break down in tears and suffer desires to go on juice diets and cling to each other for comfort. One night we had a party, the Spaniards made a bathtub full of sangria and we decorated the house with festoons of toilet paper, we danced and sung and sang and danced until the sun came up and the Metro started rolling again.

You’re a clear festival favourite, but which is your favourite festival?
I’m not as well festivaled as some of my festival-following peers, but Adelaide Fringe will always hold a special place in my heart for being so colourful and so helpful and supportive of the artists and one of the first festivals I went to. I like Adelaide and the sunshine – it’s where I met many of the friends that I now see at each festival. It’s a great place to make new shows and test things out without the pressure of damaging a reputation … if such things concern you.

Now that we’re friends, can you please let us in on your most embarrassing on-stage moment to date?
I was doing acting. It was Shakespeare acting. I forgot what I was meant to say, so I floundered around for a while pretending like I knew what I was doing, but clearly I didn’t. A member of the audience who had recently played my part in an amateur production of the same play helped out by feeding me the lines for the rest of the speech.

You’ve sold out shows, earned the tick of approval from industry peers and won many life-affirming awards, but what do you consider your greatest achievement so far?
I worked hard following a path that I could see in front of me, then this year I found myself in a place where the road opened up and there were many paths. People offered to help me in ways that I didn’t know before.

What’s the best advice you’ve ever given, received or ignored?
The best advice I’ve received is about failure. Something along the lines of: Royal Shakespeare Company makes big flops all the time, horrible! And they get so much money to make these big flops. So why should you be afraid to fail? You can’t do any worse than they do.

What makes you happiest?
Sunshine and love and outdoors and sweating and climbing and rolling.

How do you personally define success?
I guess it’s contentment. If you can find contentment where you are, you have success whether you’re broke and working minimum wage, or rich and living on a yacht. If you make a piece of art and find contentment in it, then you have success whether it’s a poo-brown finger painting, or an exploration of time and space worth thousands on a gallery wall.

What are your words of wisdom?
Everything is something. We aren’t our thoughts. Our eyes see, our ears hear and our brain thinks. It’s in our un-interfering awareness of these senses that we exist.

FAVOURITE WEEKEND SPOT TO:
Perk up … in the kitchen of a friend’s house, dancing and throwing food and eating toast.
Relax … on a bench in an art gallery.
Catch up … in a sauna or at a dance class.
Be inspired … on the walk up a mountain or an amble along a beach in a country I’ve never explored.