Frequently asked questions.

No, and I'd rather clear that up first. I don't do prediction, dates or timelines. Here the tarot is a projective tool: the image on the card is open enough that you put something of your own into it. What surfaces doesn't come from the deck — it comes from you, and that's what we listen to. No card decides anything about your life.

Fair question, and I like it. Think of the Rorschach, the inkblot test: you're shown an ambiguous image, and what you see says something about you, not about the ink. A card sits in the same register. It's an analogy: I don't administer or interpret psychological tests, and the card measures nothing. Winnicott called it potential space — that in-between area, not fully inside you and not fully out in the world, where you can play with what hasn't become words yet. An object placed in that space, an image on the table, holds what speech can't hold on its own. The analytic listening is still the work. The card is what gives it something to lean on.

Psychoanalysis is talk therapy, but the deep kind: you come regularly and, slowly, just by talking, patterns start showing up that you may not have realised were there. Psychoanalysis with tarot is the same therapy and the same depth, with one more tool for the moments where words don't reach. A tarot consultation is a single session, no process: you bring a decision, a feeling, a place where you're stuck, and we look at it from another angle. Torn between the first two? If the imagery draws you in, take the one with tarot. If it puts you off, take the one without. You can change your mind later.

Depends what you're after. Both psychoanalysis formats ask for continuity — that isn't a rule of mine, it's how the process works. It's slow by nature: things surface in their own time — and there's no guaranteed outcome. The tarot consultation exists precisely for people who want one focused session rather than an extended process. There's no hierarchy between them, just different purposes.

I am. I did my clinical training in psychoanalysis at the IBPC and finished three years ago. The tarot goes back much further — I've been studying it as a symbolic language for thirty years. Before all of that there was a long way round: a degree in economics, fifteen years in public administration in Brazil, ten years in children's services here in Australia. Not a straight line, and every one of those rooms taught me something about how people communicate, and how much of what matters most goes unsaid.

It replaces neither. It is a psychoanalytic process — clinical listening, not a card reading with a serious-sounding name. What it isn't: medical or psychiatric care. I don't diagnose, I don't prescribe and I don't promise a cure. If you're already in treatment, stay in it: the work here runs alongside, never instead. And it isn't an emergency service. If you're at risk, get help now — in Australia, Lifeline is on 13 11 14, and 000 if life is in immediate danger; in Brazil, CVV is on 188.

Both. Online is a video call from wherever you are — being in your own home is often exactly what makes speaking possible. In person means being in the same room, and some people need that: physical presence changes what you can say out loud. In-person sessions are here in New South Wales, and the address comes with your booking confirmation. The listening is the same either way. So is the price.

Psychoanalysis and psychoanalysis with tarot: $90 a session, 50 minutes to an hour. Tarot consultation: $75, same length. No packages and no subscription — you pay session by session, and payment methods come with your booking confirmation.

Portuguese or English. Portuguese is my first language; English is the language of nineteen years of my life here, and the listening goes just as deep in it. You choose. And you can mix the two: sometimes the sentence that matters only arrives in the language you grew up in.

It usually does, and it's a common arrangement here. Sydney runs thirteen hours ahead of Brasília — fourteen between October and April, during the Australian summer. In practice that helps: my early morning is your evening. You book in your own city's time, with no arithmetic to do.

No. You don't need to know the cards, and you don't need previous analysis. You also don't need to arrive with the question already formed. We start with five or ten minutes on what stood out in your week and how it felt, and the rest turns up as we go. Booking is the hard part. The rest happens in conversation.

Both happen often, and neither one is a mistake. No apologising, no pulling yourself together quickly: we take the time it takes. And silence isn't wasted time — sometimes it's where something starts to move. If you really get stuck, I'll ask. Asking the questions that help you keep going is part of my job.

It doesn't. The work asks no belief of you and doesn't compete with the one you have. The cards are symbolic material, like the image in a projective test: the reading is about your life, not about doctrine. A devout person and an atheist see different things in the same card, and in both cases what appears says something about who's looking.

It does. What's said in session doesn't leave the session — confidentiality here isn't a courtesy, it's the condition that lets the work exist. No one in your life will find out from me that you're seeing me. And if you want to talk about someone else, talk: they're covered by the same silence.

You can. Let me know in advance and we'll find another time — life happens, and I don't trade in fine print. I'd only ask that rescheduling doesn't become the pattern: in an ongoing process, regularity is part of what does the work.