Places: My “office” at St. Regis Abu Dhabi

In the afternoons, this is my work setting…. it is here, surrounded by light, red roses and golden details, drinking coffee and having cigarrettes, listening to the soft piano music in the background, that I spend countless hours writing….. I write poems, novels, art critiques, aesthetic analysis, or whatever else I feel like writing that day. I kind of like this office setting! 🙂


Twin souls. 

He offered her the whole world. ‘ No thank you… ‘ She said as she walked away. She could get the world herself, in time… what she was looking for was something much deeper than any gift could ever seduce, lure or buy. She was waiting for that one special person in the whole world that echoed a love so true it made her whole soul vibrate and flutter into completion. 

Counting shooting stars. 

It’s easy to grow bitter, it’s far too simple to grow sour, resentful and forget to care for anything or anyone because we think they are not worthy of our attention or love. It’s far too elementary to choose the darkness because we were hurt, bruised or forgotten. But that’s not who we are. It’s not what makes us human, it’s not what makes us worthy, and it’s definitely not what makes us true. Living is fighting for the light, not caving into the shattered grounds of an uncomplicated life. Living is choosing to be a lightness of existence despite the pain. It is believing in the good, the noble and the true. And for that, there is no space for resentments or bitterness, ever. There is merely a space for growth and for counting shooting stars. 

Light is love. 

It is a mistake to create assumptions about the world, when in fact…. we know nothing about it. It is a horrible misfortune to kill off what makes us human, and forget about the only thing that matters. It is the curse of darkness, their only weapon of destruction, in the war against the light. Ahhh but light… light… for the waking dreamers light always wins. It wins because light is love and love is the most powerful force of both earth and heaven. 

A dazzling madness. 

Indeed, it was a world of beauty, it was a stage of magic. But to understand either, to live there, in the edge of that transcendent madness was to let it consume you and possess you with all of it’s depths. Not for the weak of heart, not for the ones that ran away from tears and fear. This glistening world of perfection demanded an evolvement that only a few really dared to feel. Made out of strength, honour and devotion, it spoke of worlds of perfection. Sustained by love, it spoke only of eternal longings and connections that broke the threads of time itself. 

Fiction: Learning to fly.

If Celine was faith and lived a life flying in the heavens… then Christopher was reason, deeply grounded on earth. But maybe, just maybe, he wondered, she could teach him how to fly.



Se a Celine era esperança e vivia a vida em voos deambulantes pelos céus … então o Christopher era a razão, profundamente enraizado na terra.  Mas talvez, pensava ele, talvez, ela pudesse ensiná-lo a voar.


Extract from a soon to be novel.

Fiction: Unique languages.

They both smiled.  It was good to connect, in thoughts, in feelings, in words… in life. They sort of spoke the same language… A language that was only theirs. They read between the silences, and listened to what was not being said, intuitively responding effortlessly.   (…) she understood, for the very first time, that whatever was growing between them seemed to be indeed, incredibly special.



Ambos sorriram.  Era bom ter esta ligação em pensamentos,  sentimentos,  palavras… e na vida.  Eles quase que falavam a mesma linguagem… Uma linguagem só deles.   Conseguiam ler por entre os silêncios, e ouviam o que não era dito,  respondendo instintivamente  e sem qualquer esforço.  (…) assim, percebeu pela primeira vez,  que o que crescia entre eles, parecia ser de facto, algo incrivelmente especial.


Extract from a soon to be novel.

Painting above is by Chagall: details here.  

A beautiful love story (Pedro and Inês), within another love story.

He smiled, held her hand paused for a second and then he began.

‘’ Inês de Castro, who was born around 1320, was the daughter of the powerful illegitimate grandson of King Sancho IV of Castile. She went to Portugal, when she was twenty years old, as a lady-in-waiting to her cousin Constance who was to marry the heir to the Portuguese throne, Pedro. But when the prince saw Inês he fell madly in love with the noble lady. And even though he was soon married to her cousin, he still spend time with Inês. They used to have secret romantic meetings in the gardens of a Quinta, called the Estate of Tears. One of the fountains there was entitled The Fountain of Lovers, after their love for each other. Nobody agreed with the secret relationship, but Pedro didn’t care. The King decided to banish Inês from Court and sent her back to Castile in 1344. Pedro however, managed to visit Inês when she was away from the kingdom. When Constance died in 1345, Pedro brought Inês back to Portugal and settled her in Coimbra, a decision which angered his father, who strongly opposed the relationship. They ended up by living there togetherand went on to have four children. Meanwhile,the Prince became close to Inês’ brothers, who tried to convince him to claim the throne of Castile. This prospect led the King and his advisers to look for ways to free the Prince from the damaging influence of the Castro clan, and the death of Inês started to be seen as a solution.’’

Celine was silently, attentively, absorbing every single word. So Christopher continued.

‘’ Initially, Dom Afonso IV was reluctant to agree to such an extreme action against the mother of his grandchildren, but on 7 January 1355 (while Pedro was away from home), the King called his counsellors and ordered them to kill Inês. According to the legend, Inês appeared surrounded by her children and pleaded for her life. But King Afonso was not moved and left the room claiming, ‘’Do whatever you want‘’. The sentence was carried out, and Inês de Castro was executed. Deranged by pain, Peter led an uprising against the King and would never forgive his father for murdering his lover. Some people believe that she was murdered next to another fountain in the estate, which was named the Fountain of Tears. Legend has it that the red stones are stained forever with the blood that fell from her body, when she was murdered. It might have also been the place where Pedro’s tears fell, endlessly, after returning home and finding out what his father had done. When he finally took the crown in 1357, King Pedro pursued and executed Inês’ murderers by ripping their hearts out and he also announced that he had secretly married Inês. Inês de Castro was then declared Pedro’s legitimate wife and therefore the lawful Queen of Portugal. The King then ordered her body to be exhumed and taken from the Monastery of Santa Clara in Coimbra, where she was, to the Monastery of Alcobaça (the tomb of kings), where she was buried in 1361. A thousand people lit the way with white candles, and for years that followed, everyone still used to speak about how it seemed that she was being carried by stars. Two magnificent tombs were carved out of white marble and placed facing each other, so that when Pedro died, and joined Inês, they would wake up, facing each other, together for eternal life. Other’s say that the tomb was placed opposite Pedro’s own grave, so that they could look into each other’s eyes forever and ever. Whichever had been Pedro’s idea, still today, their tombs rest there, in each other’s presence. ‘’ He paused. ‘’ Still, to this day, the fountain is filled with red stones…. ‘’

Celine had tears falling down her face when Christopher finished the story.

Extract from a soon to be novel.

Pictures of their tombs in another post: here.