For some, the blank page is daunting; many artists dread the moment when they must put pen to paper, brush to canvas, chord to staff. Michaela Coel revels in the controlled chaos of creation. She lives for the intensity.
We’re in her apartment in London at night. We bustled up here together—Coel hauling four or five bags, me carrying a recently delivered package, and her friend, the actress Ann Akinjirin, who we bumped into outside of the building, in tow. We go up in the elevator and into the apartment, where the 38-year-old writer, actor, and director lives alone. It’s understated yet expansive, with a set of floor-to-ceiling windows looking out across the River Thames. At high tide, the water licks at the building.
The plan, she tells Akinjirin and…
