I grew up in a family where you learned by doing. There was always something to repair, adjust, or build. No time for theory. That direct relationship with the real world shaped my curiosity. Working with my hands taught me to observe, to understand what wasn’t working, and to look for the cause.

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I first worked as a craftsman, restoring old books. It was demanding, precise, and deeply satisfying. I loved the gesture, the materials, the attention to detail. What I struggled with, however, was the idea of erasing the marks left by time. Restoring a binding “as if new” bothered me: I wanted to honour the past, not hide it.

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I eventually paused my work to rethink how I wanted to practise this craft. Life took me elsewhere. Astrology entered that interval, answering my need to connect things together while leaving space for mystery and the unknown. It became impossible not to explore it.

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I studied several modern approaches — psychological, karmic, humanistic. They seemed convincing at first, but the internal inconsistencies of their theories, and the posture they required of the astrologer—half coach, half therapist, half spiritual guide — quickly made me doubt their foundations. I was looking for a clear, coherent system built on rules, not impressions.

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I had always heard that traditional astrology was fatalistic, outdated, and incompatible with our century. Yet, studying it brought everything into focus: the logic, the structure, the rigour. I found a solid framework that allows one to think without losing direction. Without erasing the past, it offers a way to continue the work of earlier astrologers and adapt it — as lucidly as possible — to our own time.

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Horary astrology, inherited from William Lilly and taught today by John Frawley, gave me a concrete art: faithful to tradition without becoming traditionalist. It answers real questions with precise and verifiable judgments. It says yes or no, steps out of the “according to me” mindset, and avoids the endless interpretations where everything can be true and therefore nothing is. Horary shows things as they are, not as we would prefer them to be. It is genuinely refreshing.

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John Frawley was a demanding and exceptionally clear teacher. His lucid irreverence, combined with an effective pedagogy, taught me the value of simplicity and common sense: follow facts, avoid projections, and never confuse what you observe with what you imagine. His work has been a decisive intellectual influence, and I remain deeply grateful for what he taught me.

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This site is my way of affirming that reality exists—and that a rigorous art can read it. In a world that privileges emotion over fact and opinion over knowledge, horary astrology offers a return to the concrete. It flatters neither the ego nor personal narratives. It does not claim that everyone is the centre of their own universe, free to interpret everything as they wish. It simply asks us to look at what is, not what we feel or imagine.

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I stand here against the loss of judgment and the dilution of truth for the sake of psychological comfort. Horary astrology, through its clarity and precision, resists this drift.

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I now live in southern Portugal, where I study and practise horary astrology. My consultations are not a form of ongoing support; they are precise judgments meant to help you make a decision. I share my research and reflections on my blog 🔗 and in my newsletter, “The Flogistique”. I also publish selected questions in the Horary Lab, to show how a judgment is build.

If you would like to ask me a question, please visit the Consultations page.

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