Born in the Irish countryside sometime during the great Potato Glut of 1822...

Paul first rose to prominence as a preposterously flamboyant art critic, renowned for his extravagant attire (legend has it one blouse of woven pig nostrils had lapels bigger than Dublin). In more recent years Paul has claimed refugee status in New Zealand, and has ambitions to climb Cook Strait. His dog is a drunk.

No one said being Irish was easy. Fortunately he’s a talented animator and director specialising in 3D. He has a knack for making things work and he's quite smooth with the client, which is both concerning and fortunate. His grasp of the kiwi vernacular is coming along, too, although he still requires a translator at the local fesh en chep shop. It's fush, Paul, fush un chups.