Andrew Francis Perrin

The speech for the celebration of Andrew’s life

Andrew Francis Perrin (1964–2024): Artist, Gamer, and Master of Sarcastic wit

Andrew Francis Perrin was born on December 31, 1964, in Huddersfield, West Yorkshire, and grew up in Pontefract. He passed away on December 22, 2024, at Whipps Cross Hospital—just nine days shy of his 60th birthday—of Glioblastoma and Pulmonary Embolism. .

Andy has left an indelible mark on all who knew him, whether through his art, his humor, or his legendary online gaming antics.

A Boy with His Own Language (and a Dog Named Rebel)

Andrew was the youngest child of Jean and Fred Perrin, following in the well-worn footsteps of his older siblings Judith, Dennis, and Glen. As a young boy, Andy was tongue-tied—literally—leading him to invent his own language. Thankfully, his sister Jude served as both translator and occasional saboteur, tricking him into saying words he struggled with, much to the delight of the entire family, including Andy himself.

The family later acquired a demanding but loveable Alsatian named Rebel, who promptly recruited Andy into the lifelong club of dog lovers.

Personality: Yorkshire Wit Meets Plato

Andy’s sense of humor was as dry as a good Yorkshire pudding and as sharp as his intellect. He had a gift for blending sarcasm with warmth, leaving people both amused and enlightened. He could talk about anything—politics, arts, philosophy—and often did. Plato made a deep impression on him during his Fine Art degree, though Andy likely would have given the philosopher a good-natured ribbing over a pint.

From the Depths of a Coal Mine to the Heights of Fine Art

Andy’s working life began at 16 at Acton Hall colliery, deep underground. Given that he was over six feet tall and preferred pondering philosophy to shifting coal, it was a bit like casting a poet in a rugby match.

After the miners’ strike, work was scarce, so Andy moved to London, squatting in a friend’s flat in Maida Vale while seeking new opportunities. There, in the late ’80s, he met Kiki, his first serious girlfriend, who encouraged him to pursue higher education. He took her advice and studied computer science at Queen Mary University of London, proving that even a Yorkshire lad from the pits could master the digital age.

But computers weren’t his only passion. In his early 30s, he swapped binary code for paintbrushes, enrolling in an Art Foundation course at Waltham Forest College. There, he met Pia—the woman who would later become his wife and the wielder of the scissors that finally put an end to his infamous ponytail (which, he insisted, was a protest against his receding hairline). His fellow students greeted his transformation with cheers, proving that sometimes, tough love really does work.

Andy continued his education at Camberwell College, earning a Fine Art Painting degree. His graduation installation, “Reversed Agoraphobia,” featured an inside-out room with periscopes to the inside of the room that only revealed the nature outside - an artistic statement that was as thought-provoking as it was, well, very Andy.

Dogs, Camping, and an Unexpected Instagram Star

In 2012, Andy and Pia brought home Pepe, a tiny puppy who had no idea he was about to become an Instagram celebrity. With Andy’s expert social media skills, Pepe landed a gig as a model for Lily’s Kitchen Dog Food. Meanwhile, Andy maintained correspondence with Pepe’s many dog pals online—arguably his most adorable fan club.

The family loved camping and exploring the British Isles, always seeking out nature’s beauty and the next perfect spot to pitch a tent.

Socktiger: The Virtual World Legend

When he wasn’t painting or photographing, Andy was venturing through virtual realms. Known as “Socktiger” in gaming circles, he was the self-proclaimed electrician of his online squad, crafting elaborate electrical traps and structures that baffled opponents and delighted teammates.

From taming dinosaurs in Ark to conquering mutants in Killing Floor, Andy played with dedication, wit, and a fair share of expletives. His magnum opus? A virtual castle in Conan Exiles so grand that even the game developers might have taken notes. His gaming friends miss his dry humor, unexpected outbursts, and sheer creative genius in the digital landscape.

Photography: The Art of Seeing Small Things in Big Ways

Andy’s love of photography took him often on “garden safaris,” where he captured stunning macro images of bugs and plants. His favorite flower was the sunflower—bold, bright, and a little rebellious against the gray skies of Britain, much like Andy himself.

An Unstoppable Spirit

In 2021, Andy was diagnosed with Glioblastoma. True to form, he faced the news with determination, wit, and an unrelenting desire to live. He participated in medical trials, helping to push forward treatments that may one day benefit others.

As the illness progressed, he continued pushing himself—physically and mentally. You simply could not tell him what to do. He was always resisting conformity. Even in his final months, he insisted on walking around Connaught Waters lake in Epping Forest, determined to complete the circuit bench by bench. That walk was his last, a testament to his sheer willpower.

Final Wishes and Everlasting Waves

Confined to bed, Andy spent his last days listening to music and watching the gentle reflections of a “Northern Lights” lamp, letting his mind drift to the beauty of the world beyond.

His final request? To have his ashes scattered at sea, so friends and family around the world could remember him in his happy place by the water. Some will also rest beneath his favorite tree on Chingford Golf Course, where Pia and Pepe can visit him on their daily walks.

Andy leaves behind a legacy of love, art, and the unmistakable twinkle of a life well lived. His absence will be deeply felt, but his laughter, wisdom, and wit will echo in every story told about him

We met Andy as a very helpful neighbor who heroically climbed up one of our trees to cut of a broken branch. We soon started to enjoy and to 'suffer' from his wit , sarcasm and questionable wisdom. A glass or two of wine would have been consumed on numerous occasions and pondering about life and politics. We are deeply missing him, but will be forever grateful for the wonderful memories he left us with.

We met Andy as a helpful neighbor who climbed in our tree to cut a broken branch off and who gave us gardening advice. Soon he became a friend and we enjoyed his wit , his questionable wisdom and quirky sense of humor. We are missing him around and always expected to see him walking Pepe. Whilst we really miss him , we will always cherish the lovely memories.

Andy’s life story as I know it starts at Eagle cottages where, according to our mum, he was delivered by the stalks; Some of my earliest memories are here. Andy and I would be put to bed, he would be strapped into his cot with reins, of which the moment our mum closed the bedroom door, would be unclipped and I would lift him out over the cot side to continue playing. ‘No peeping’ would be our dad’s bedtime farewell, we would cheekily reply with ‘peeping, peeping!’ Laughing away.

With just a 17 month age gap, Andy was my first and best friend. We would play endlessly, making dens with the clothes horse, the L shaped bookcase (home to our dad’s prized encyclopaedias) became the building blocks for our sweet shop. Trampled pages, mountains of tangled books, a younger brother who would unknowingly buy back his own sweets and without too much fuss allow his older sister to dress him as a little girl - childhood bliss.

School holidays were spent outdoors, climbing tree’s and finding mischief around every corner. Our favourite time of year was Autumn when the bails of straw would make for the most fantastic, elaborate tunnels, and we would walk for miles to Bluebell woods. Laughing so much that we could barely stand at the thought of someone tumbling down the steep incline. Andy’s wicked sense of humour as evident from day dot - we have our father to thank for that one! These days were eternal adventures, laughing and pillocking about, until our hungry tummies took us home.

I will never forget our dad taking us to visit our grandad in Kent, Andy thinking he knew best and picking up an ants nest with his bare hands, swinging off the curtains at a very posh restaurant and later comparing the repercussion handprints across our bottoms.

We were lucky enough to visit Ibiza in the early 70’s on a family holiday, our dad had spent the day picking pomegranates which ‘somehow’ found themselves splattered across the hotel walls the moment mam and dads backs were turned - wherever Andy and I were, you can guarantee there would be chaos ( and of course the matching handprints as a result!)

As we grew up, Andy and I got jobs together. From Pea and Potato picking, to (sadly) working on a pig farm, we were glad to earn our own pocket money as we didn’t have a lot back then. We both sang in the local choir and even made a little money singing at weddings and funerals! Music and art ran through Andy’s veins.

In adult life, during the minors strike and before Andy moved to London, he came to stay with me and the girls. The rebellious streak hadn’t left us for long as our evenings were spent with friends, smoking ourselves into oblivion and competing to see who could roll the longest joint.

Andy had so much to offer and the world was a much better place with him present. My heart will be forever broken for the loss of such a beautiful being.

As dad always said no peeping tonight … it’s only goodnight until we meet again …I love and miss you so much my little brother .. Hope I get to be your big sister next time around ❤️

Andy and I crossed paths about 34 years ago, through our common friend Kiki (Kirsten). The places Berlin, Brixton, Brighton and quite a few more come to my mind, where we shared many good times and funny moments, often hilarious due to Andy's wicked sense of humour to which I could relate rather well. For a decade our lives allowed us to see each other, sometimes at celebratory occasions, and each time I had a warm feeling of friendship towards him. Even when we hadn't seen each other for a long time, we connected straight away just as before. I like to think he was as fond of me as I was of him. In recent
years, due to life circumstances, we grew apart as we each got on with our personal lives. I know he spent many happy years with Pia. A fantastic guy and a gentle soul with a wicked sense of humour. Never forgotten. See you some time my old friend.

We first met Andy, just roughly over 20 years ago. Andy & Pia became our new neighbours, which was a breath of fresh air...as the flat was empty for quite awhile. The garden was quite neglected, but Andy & Pia, soon got into it & turned it all around.
We shared many good times chatting in the garden. When Pepe came along a few years later, Andy & Pia was so happy.Andy was helpful giving advice & tips etc..as.well as Pia, & help repairing bits & pieces.. we also liked chatting over a glass of wine etc. We couldn't of asked for nicer than Andy. It strange not seeing him anymore pottering around, or out with Pia & Pepe. We like to say Pia, we are just next door whenever you need . us. God bless you Andy, & rest peacefully
Pat & Ann 🙏🙏

Andy, AKA Socktiger, was very much invested in our virtual worlds.
From vanquishing mutants in Killing Floor, surviving and taming dinosaurs in Ark to building structures and venturing out for resources in Rust, he loved spending copious amounts of time partaking in our alternative lives online. He was also the self proclaimed electrician of the group. The electrical tricks and traps he created were fantastic!

Andy also liked to dabble in Conan Exiles. A vast fantasy world filled with adventures, whacky characters, creatures and laughs. I've never seen such a vast virtual castle soar so high as the one he spent countless days building. He found his niche as our tribe's builder.

He is very much missed among our nerdy group of friends. His dry wit, off the cuff comments and outbursts of delight or dismay, provided hours of entertainment. We all raise a glass of his favourite whiskey to our real world and virtual buddy.

Rest easy, Socktiger.

I can remember being about 7/8 years old, at our great nana Millies funeral.. our great grandad Joe’s hearing aid was continuously going off (and whilst I can’t remember word for word) Andy’s comments were along the lines of ‘the irony of the deaf bastards hearing-aid, deafening us’ 😂. Andy and Pia sat with me that day and spent time teaching me to draw, I’ll never forget sitting at the bar with them and (this I do remember word for word) Andy telling me how I should never rub anything out, but work on it instead. An unintentionally profound lesson that has stuck with me, and is something I will teach my daughter. Andy quite literally radiated a warmth you rarely find in people, one that quietly fills the room and others can’t help but gravitate to. I think the amount of people who loved him is testament to this. Anyone who knew him would have enjoyed how wickedly funny (borderline offensive at times) he was, and how he somehow carried it off with enough charisma to sink a ship.

I’ve always been proud of him, I can remember so proudly telling my school friends that my uncle was an artist, but never more so than how he’s handled these past few years. I will always remember him for the incredible, kind, proud, witty and sarcastic man he was, right the way through. Someone who had a lifelong impact on the people he met and truly made the world a better place. He was lucky to have Pia and of course Pepe, and be surrounded by so much love, and we were so so lucky too. I know we will all still find him with us, in the art, the quiet beauty, the appreciation for brutal humour and quick wit, the good curries and the finer things.

Sending lots of love Pia xxx

I will always remember our dog walks talking about music and telling each other dirty jokes and moaning about life.When I walk Dex in the forest I will look up and think about what Shakespeare said: Let us sit upon the ground and tell sad stories of the deaths of Kings

Andy always struck me as a unique and amazing human. In our quiet moments together, we shared our similar hobbies and chilhood memories, talking about Morrowind and Baldur's Gate, that I found in very few people in the world. His uncanny humour that never fails to get a laugh was wonderful and refreshing.

On our last conversations together, Andy said something that up to now tells his love for Pia, "I'll find her in the next life."

Pia, first of all, my heart goes out to you. 💕You married a great guy, and I am very sorry for your loss. I was so happy for Andy that he had met you and that your relationship turned into such a beautiful partnership. Andy, I am sorry that you had to leave us so early. I so appreciated your friendship what now feels like 100 years ago. Your sense of humour was second to none. I wasn’t fluent in English when I met you, and it sometimes took all my brain power to keep up with your brilliant jokes. You were always my favorite guy of all the guys that showed up in Kiki's life, but you probably already know that. See you on the other side someday.

Andrew was definitely one of the most challenging students I had the good fortune to attempt to teach.
He was mostly far too 'cerebral' and over-analytical to trust his creative impulses;- Like a dolphin swimming amongst koi carp. He needed a 'structured' approach and according to my recollection, the turning point came when he started using chance as a means of constructing images. But still....the old chestnut of 'what's the point'? held him in its grip. A few beers later he discovered Pia....and Photography! Two complimentary passions! I remember good times in the pub, his sharp wit and sardonic humour, his insight and his thinly disguised affection. Good times too in Wales, witnessing a solar eclipse upstream on the Thames and latterly here, walking Pepe and our dog Wez along Ramsgate beach. I will always treasure those memories and I will miss your company Andrew. Enjoy eternity. Catch up with you someday. Gary xxx

I actually only really saw Andrew for the three years we were at Camberwell College of Art. I think we shared a bond because we were both of the same generation, hovering between all those 18/19 year olds and the considerate number of 40+ yr old students. It was a very eclectic mix on the Painting course! Andrew was highly intelligent and very perceptive and also could be very critical and yet be non-judgmental. It was a combination of character traits you do not often see within the same person! He definitely added to the Art College experience being fun and interesting, not least because of his scathing sense of humour!

I must tell you about two pivotal moments stand out in my memory. First of all the one morning he arrived at college after you had cut off his infamous ponytail! It was hilarious as everybody started applauding and cheering as he walked into the studio. He just smiled and said "Pia took the scissors to it!". Then there was the day that we were setting up the degree show and he just came in and built this incredible installation (The Perrinscope!) from scratch and absolutely immaculately. We were all thinking, how on earth did he do that?! More generally, there were always lots of cigarette breaks and afternoons in the student bar of course, which were always fun and entertaining.

After college we did not really keep in touch and I had children quite soon after, but later, with Instagram I got to see his beautiful photographs and glimpses into the life he shared with you and Pepe. Then, a year and half ago or so, out of the blue he messaged me and told me his devastating news. I still don't know how you both coped with all of this so amazingly well. He seemed quite calm and really his old self, a bit slower perhaps, but he did say that internally he felt like he was staring into the abyss. Zero self pity, that is what struck me. So stoic until the end. Probably he was not always like that and no one knew him better than you Pia. You have been his absolute rock and his struggle has been yours as much if not more sometimes, I cannot even imagine.
Wishing you strength and sending much love,

XXX Ingrid

As I write this I look out of the window and it is a beautiful sunny slightly cold day with a clear blue sky.
The sort of day when Epping Forest is at its best, the sort of day when I might have bumped into Andy and Pepe walking round the golf course.
I was very sad to hear from Pia that he had passed away just before Christmas.
I always found Andy very interesting and amusing to talk with and over the years I enjoyed chatting with him sometimes just a brief hello and other times for a bit longer.
As is common with dog walkers, you get to know dogs names long before the names of the owners. Andy was the exception, he seemed to know all the dogs and most of the owners names . I think Andy had every dog and their owner graded based mainly on whether Pepe liked them or not.
When Andy told me about his illness I wasn’t surprised that he dealt with it in his usual very matter of fact and slightly humorous way.
As time went on I used to see him less and less and when I did see him I would ask how he was doing and he would often say something like “Oh I’ve the lost sight in one eye now“ or “I sometimes forget the way home” followed by a little joke and a chuckle.
I knew Andy the dog walker, not Andy the ex miner, singer, photographer, IT specialist, nature lover etc. As is often the case there is often so much more to people than you first realise.
I know that Andy got great pleasure from his quiet time in the mornings walking with Pepe.
He will be missed but I will often remember him when walking through that part of the forest.

Tim and Buddy 🐶

I remember Andy and Pia visiting us in Scotland when our son Sebastian was little toddler - I did give Pia a massage, so Andy was charged entertaining Sebastian on the floor in the same room. In addition to looking after Sebastian he created what he called 'whale music' for the impromptu therapy room on our keyboard. When I was suitably impressed by this improvisation, he just said - It's easy, I'll show later how to do it.
(As if it was that easy for everyone). We never managed my music lesson. I think I might have been a tad busy toddler minding.
We did climb up a hill together - I was carrying Sebastian and turning home after the climb. Pia and Andy went for a lovely day hike in very un-Scottish sunshine and came back with burn faces.

I am devastated to have lost such a valuable member of our team at London Stadium Learning. Andy provided expert IT skills that are so essential to the project running smoothly. He documented all of our activities with his beautiful photographic skills and then helped us to share our achievements through the amazing online spaces he created. His unwavering presence and patience kept us all calm in tricky challenging tech related situations and his creativity will be sorely missed. I am so sorry for your loss Pia. We will always appreciate his hard work and be thankful for his contribution to this project.

I have happy memories of us all at Waltham Forest College during our art foundation . Andrew being supportive and kind of my often questionable efforts and also much hilarity at his inimitable"feedback" 😆 Also our many sessions in the College Arms after class. One day finishing a whole barrel of Umble Magna which we paid for the next day in the studio!
I'll miss you Gareth Southgate Badger, much love and precious memories from Tasmin Archer Badger. xxxx❤️🙏

I got to know Andy as one of the choir partners throughout the years Pia and I have been singing in the same Finnish choir. Unlike most of the partners, Andy was a loyal supporter and was often seen at our concerts, whether big or small (as we say in Finnish, even at the cat’s christening!). He often brought Pepe along too, and this duo was always a welcome sight. Andy was always happy to have a conversation, funny and intelligent, about a variety of subjects. The choir is also very grateful for the photos and videos Andy took of us over the years.

It is very sad to say goodbye - hope to see you again one day on the other side. We’ll try to look after Pia in the choir and will think of you during our concerts, imagining you in the audience with Pepe by your side.

I dated Andy in London in 1987/88 for just a short period before returning home to the U S., but I never forgot his wonderful spirit. We both loved Prince to an excessive level- especially the album 'Parade'. I feel so lucky that I got to visit Andy and meet Pia in September of this year, to enjoy a chat, a hug from my old friend, and a wonderful walk with Pia and Pepe. Andy you will always have a place in my heart. I feel so very fortunate to have known your beautiful soul. Love, Liesl

This is one of my favourite pictures that Andy took on our trip to Martinique, I liked it so much I got a big print and it is framed on a place of honour in my living room. I learned a whole lot about Photography from Andy on our trip, especially slow shutterspeed images such as this one, I was just clicking pictures with auto settings until that point, this was turning point for me helping me with my own photography journey massively. Thank you Andy xxx

I have many fond memories of times with Andy and Pia. Often they would take place at their flat next to Epping Forest, and would involve alcohol, with perhaps Pia cooking and Andy in charge of the sound system, making a mix tape out of the tracks he played (I have some still, and remember The Cure, The Clash and Leningrad Cowboys). As well as the drink and some dancing there was often a midnight walk in the forest led by Andy and his trusty torch with a flask of whisky to keep us company. Sometimes it didn't get that far because, being a lightweight, or drinking faster, or both, I fell asleep on the sofa in the middle of proceedings, waking up later with a blanket over me and Andy and Pia continuing drinking and talking. The next day always started with a hangover. These memories and the fun we had will always remain. At the time they seemed part of something bigger, but looking back they were the bigger picture, with everything else fading into history.