I spend my life exploring hidden networks in the brain. Away from science, I always dreamed of living on a houseboat after years of kayaking on the Thames in London. In the Netherlands, that dream came true — even if I’m afraid of water. Curiosity and a love of challenge keep me moving: I’ve cycled from London to Paris, raced downhill on skis at 90 km/h, and most weekends I’m chasing my dog Athos across Nijmegen’s city beach — leaving him sandy and muddy but endlessly happy.

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I’ve long been fascinated by the stories behind the science — the paths people take, the quirks of the brain that make us who we are, and the connections that shape our lives. That sense of wonder guides both my research and my life outside the lab.

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For me, science and life are about emergence: when things come together, they create something greater than the sum of their parts. Whether it’s neurons forming networks, people building communities, or disciplines integrating insights, I try to carry that perspective into how I mentor, collaborate, and live day to day.

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And because this is the Netherlands — where bicycles famously outnumber people — I ride four: a no-nonsense UK commuter, a graceful Spanish endurance bike, a US gravel workhorse, and a sharp German race bike. Cycling clears my mind, fuels my endurance, and takes me further than expected — the same qualities I look for in research.

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​Life on the water is a quiet teacher. The tides rise and fall, storms rattle the deck, and sunrises spill across the harbour — lessons in resilience, balance, and the strength of a close-knit community where neighbours become lifelines. When the mountains call, I answer on skis; when the sun returns, I take to the kayak. And wherever the adventure leads, Athos is usually with me: often muddy, always enthusiastic.