Ana Costa

Writer, Collage Maker, Photographer, Artistic Agent

Porto, Portugal



Born in Porto, i graduated at the city's Faculty of Arts and Humanities, Bachelor of Arts in Information Science. Writer, "Misantropia esclarecida" (2014, Livros de Ontem), "Renascer Metade" (2016, Livros de Ontem) and "É sempre cedo, o que há numa rua deserta" (2019, Livros de Ontem; she also authored one of the photographs presented in the book "Penélope" (2014, Livros de Ontem e The Art Boulevard) , and she wrote one of the short stories in the "Mens Sana" (2015, Livros de Ontem e Fundação S. João de Deus) anthology.


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Death and growth

Oct 20, 2023 6 months ago

It was a very sunny and hot day when I heard that one of my best friends died. We were celebrating an important date to my country, the Carnation Revolution, in which a dictatorship was defeated with almost no bloodshed. She loved this day, but she was studying abroad, so she couldn't be here. Nevertheless, the resistance songs she sang with her mother were echoing, just waiting until she came back to join the chorus (and a professional singer she was). She's not really gone. I smile every day with the memory of her presence, her support and her beautiful calm company. Every April 25th, the carnations have an even brighter colour. And she laughs, knowing that i see it.

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Love lost and found

Jan 21, 2023 1 year ago

I never dated and I never had a relationship. I valued people and treated my friends as my real treasures, as they are, but I thought love, at least in the romantic sense, wasn't meant for me. I tried, maybe too hard, and got to a point where I thought "well, it is what it is; I won't live to have a boyfriend or a girlfriend". I got used to sleeping alone, I got comfy with waking up alone in a big bed. Most of the time, I went to the movies, to the theatre, to museums, by myself, enjoying art and life, and also having fun with the people I love and who love me. Along came the pandemic, and it seemed like I finally finished setting my priorities straight: it's all about the moments, the people who always have beautiful and supportive words, and the right smile. Friends are important, my Art is important, and living with and around Art is what matters. Not success, not fame, but people, moments, and places. When I forgot it, it happened, at the same time, like a reward for my patience and my meditation: I felt utterly in love (or so I thought) with a girl, a lot younger than me. I felt seen romantically, and sexually, and for the first time, I said "good morning" or "good night" to the same person, every day. My mind raced with imagination, roaming with stories of eternal love, two women artists living abroad, the whole idealization. Soon, it became understood that I was a vehicle to her ego, something to make her feel adored. It was pure abuse, and I fell through my deepest emotional hole. It took some time but I put an end to it. By this time, I genuinely thought it was over, I would never find love again. If that was love, I'd rather be alone. It didn't take long for me to realize I never knew what real love is in the first place, just what it shouldn't be. He showed me what kindness could be, and what altruistic care meant. He wanted to be with me and, for a moment and until this day, he is the first person I got romantically involved with who said "I love you" or "You're beautiful". He worries; he helps; he communicates; he respects, and he supports me every step of the way. So, this is what "being seen" actually looks like. We've been living together for some months now, and everything seems natural, organic, and simple. Who would have thought that a pandemic in my thirties would be what it took to know what "the closest to happiness" meant? The picture I posted is one I took during our last stroll, last weekend. One of many to come.

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