About Me
Allow me to share a glimpse into my artistic journey—a path shaped by passion, struggles with neurodivergence, and an unwavering commitment to authentic performance—through the evolution of the WHY Method and Story & Character Synthesis.
For most of my life, I thought I was the problem. Acting was my passion, my obsession, the thing that set my soul alight—and yet, every time I stepped into a rehearsal room or workshop, I felt like I didn’t belong.
I was told I needed to break down a script, analyse objectives, beats, super-objectives. But no matter how hard I tried, the words on the page just wouldn’t stick. I struggled to learn my lines in isolation, to force an emotional connection through cold analysis, to fit into a process that felt unnatural. And because I struggled, I believed I was failing. For thirty years, I convinced myself that I simply wasn’t working hard enough—that if I could just focus more, push harder, be like everyone else, I would finally get it.
But deep down, I knew there had to be another way.
What I didn’t realise at the time was that I was trying to force my neurodivergent brain to function in a way it wasn’t designed to. I had spent years struggling with traditional methods, trying to start with what—what I was doing, what I was saying—then figuring out how to do it, when my brain had always intrinsically started with why. Reading Start with Why by Simon Sinek was a moment of profound recognition. It wasn’t teaching me something new—it was confirming what I had always known deep down. My ADHD had always pushed me to seek deeper meaning first, yet I had spent years trying to suppress that instinct, believing I needed to approach acting in a more structured, surface-level way. The reason I struggled for so long wasn’t because I lacked discipline or ability—it was because I was being forced into a framework that worked against how my mind naturally processes creativity. My ADHD craved curiosity, discovery, deep learning and kinesthetic connection with the character and story—yet I was being told to sit with a script, to dissect text intellectually before I even had the chance to experience it. My dyslexia made processing and memorising static words on a page nearly impossible, yet I was expected to learn my lines in isolation before rehearsal. The entire system was built around methods that worked for others, but not for me.
And so I gaslit myself. I masked. I overcompensated. I people pleased. Suffering crippling social anxiety I shrank myself in rooms full of actors and directors, absorbing their frustration, feeling their impatience, knowing that I was working twice as hard just to keep up. And yet, when I finally did learn my lines—when I had absorbed the role so deeply that I could access it effortlessly, even in the height of emotion—my performance often stood out. And instead of being recognised for that, I was resented. Labelled as lazy. Called undisciplined.
I almost quit. I was ready to walk away entirely. And then, everything changed.
Mark Travis and Beyond
Mark W. Travis
I was invited to attend a 7-day intensive directing masterclass as an actor with Mark Travis, one of the world’s leading authorities on intuitive directing. I, along with a dozen other actors, were there for the directors to practice the Travis Technique on. I sat at the back, still believing I didn’t belong there. And then Mark said something to the directors that shook me to my core:
“So you think you’ve analysed your script? I guarantee you, you’re not even close.”
He wasn’t talking about objectives or beats. He was talking about intuition over cognitive reasoning—about allowing the character’s subconscious to shape the story, rather than the director’s mind imposing control over it. And for the first time, I felt seen.
On day one, Mark recognised something in me that I had known all along but had never been able to articulate. He leaned toward me at the back of the room and said, "You already know this don't you?" and with all of the weight of years of struggle, I replied with a resounding "YES!"
In a single session, I was able to become a character—fully, instinctively—without breaking the scene down into intellectualised parts. I wasn’t thinking, I was simply existing in the role. And the reaction from one of NZ's prominent directors? “I didn’t know you could do that.”
From that moment, I stopped trying to prove myself and started owning my process.
I became obsessed with understanding why this worked—why my instincts had rejected traditional acting methods, why surrendering to curiosity, wonder, and subconscious absorption led to deeper, more authentic performances. I realised that true transformation often occurs through expectation violation, when the brain encounters something unexpected and is forced to adapt, embedding the experience more deeply. I studied Whole Brain Thinking by Dr Jill Bolte Taylor, Carl Jung’s persona theory, the psychology of deep learning, and how the subconscious shapes creativity. I trained directly with Mark Travis, becoming part of his team, learning how to extract the character from within the actor, rather than forcing the actor to impose themselves onto the character.
Additionally, I have undertaken online training in body language with Vanessa Van Edwards and studied Neuro-Linguistic Programming (NLP) workshops, further deepening my understanding of how human behaviour, subconscious communication, and psychological patterns influence performance. Unlike traditional acting techniques that often emphasise a single learning style, my method incorporates all seven learning styles, ensuring that every actor—regardless of how they process information—has access to a method that works with their natural strengths rather than against them.
Peter Feeney
Peter Feeney and the Actors Lab
y Experience with The Actor’s Lab
Shortly after developing my approach, I was invited by Peter Feeney to speak at The Actor’s Lab, where I was asked to share my insights with neurodivergent students who were struggling with the same issues I had faced. What started as a simple conversation about tips and tricks for managing ADHD and dyslexia in acting quickly evolved into something bigger.
I asked the students a simple question: Why did you enter the performing arts? That question lit a spark. By reconnecting with their intrinsic motivation, they immediately became more engaged, more present. I encouraged them to read scripts from a place of curiosity rather than analysis, to explore a line not by intellectualising it, but by surrendering to the given circumstances and engaging with their scene partners in the moment.
Something clicked. Even the neurotypical students found it revelatory—one even called it “the cheat code of acting” because their performance felt effortless and organic. What started as a guest session turned into something more permanent. I was asked to stay on as one of the main teachers at The Actor’s Lab, helping actors—both neurodivergent and neurotypical—experience the power of working from their subconscious synthesis rather than cognitive analysis.
“Those who know, do. Those who understand, teach.”
How I can help
If you’ve struggled the way I have—if you’ve sat in acting classes feeling like you just don’t get it, if you’ve second-guessed yourself, masked, overcompensated, gaslit yourself into believing you’re the problem—I want you to know you’re not alone. And more importantly, you’re not broken.
Your brain simply works differently. And that difference is not a weakness—it’s your greatest strength.
I now offer one-on-one coaching and run my own acting classes at Studio Four at TAPAC in Auckland, guiding actors to connect with their roles in a way that feels natural, effortless, and alive. My goal is to put on a showcase in the TAPAC auditorium, where actors trained in this method can share performances that feel fully lived, not just performed.
If you’ve ever felt like you were the problem, I’m here to tell you: You were never the problem. The method was.
There’s a better way. And I want to help you find it.
“When we know WHY we do what we do, everything falls into place.
When we don’t, we have to push things into place.”
