An amateur astronomer is someone who works somehow in astronomy but does not get paid for what (s)he does. This can be by collecting and providing scientific data to scientists or teaching and inspiring people to appreciate the sky and what is beyond it, among other activities.
I self-declared myself an amateur astronomer on the day I felt confident that my variable star magnitude estimates were reliable and I started submitting data to REA (Rede de Astronomia Observacional — my local group of amateur astronomers), AAVSO, VSNET and AFOEV. That was back in 2000. The feeling of "contributing to science" was so great that I immediately started learning how to observe and submit useful data on comets, sunspots, occultations and eclipses. My favorite activity was to follow the news on novae outbursts in the southern hemisphere and provide visual photometric data to professional astronomers. At that time, there were not many crazy people willing to get up in the middle of the night to look at "dim dots" and also there were no perfect automated sky surveys that could do the job. After moving to the northern hemisphere in 2006 I wasn't able to continue doing visual photometry of stars and comets and decided then to stick to astrophotography and the possibilities of inspiring others to look up.
This was not the first and hopefully not the last time I took a photo of another galaxy. However, galaxy imaging is always a highlight on my astrophoto sessions because it always triggers so many questions in my mind regarding life and the Universe itself. Picture from September 2021.
This is certainly something trivial to professional and advanced astrophotographers, but not for me. I was quite happy on the first time I registered the various colors of the rho Ophiuchi complex, back in September 2021 during a trip in La Palma, Spain. The sky was crystal clear.
Leaving home by bike at 03:30 AM to shoot comet NEOWISE over my workplace at ESO Headquarters, I was surprised by a night sky covered by noctilucent clouds. This, at such intensity, is very rare at my latitude of 47º. The comet was visible, but lost the role of being the highlight of the image! This became the ESO Picture of the Week on 13 July 2020 and was featured on the ESO Calendar 2022.
While unable to go out during the lockdown in 2020, a beautiful conjunction of Venus and the Pleiades took place. Night after night, from my kitchen window I was able to follow the path of Venus and that reminded me that the night sky is still able to provide infinite entertainment even during the worst situations.
Back in 1994 I saw a solar eclipse from my school in São Paulo, where the Sun got 82% percent covered by the Moon. That was enough to impress me and make me wonder whether and when I would be able to see a total solar eclipse. I came to the conclusion that my best chance would probably be 25 years in the future (in 2019) in the Atacama Desert and since then that became a dream of mine. Coincidence or not, I started working at ESO and I was able to travel to its La Silla Observatory and see this phenomenon from the top of the mountain. It was simply fabulous and I cannot imagine any other eclipse observation being better than what I was able to experience. Photos with detailed descriptions can be found on this photo album.
Aurorae had always been something exotic that was in my list of things to see, but I knew it would be very difficult if not impossible. However, this became less exotic once I moved to Germany and was then a bit closer to the polar circle than when I used to live in Brazil. With a bit of planning, I was able to travel to Norway and witness this beautiful phenomenon in person. The photo above shows the absolute first aurora I've seen in my life, from the shore of Ramberg in the Lofoten Islands. It may not look as majestic as the National Geographic photos but I was thrilled!! More photos of the trip to Norway and brighter aurorae can be seen at the bottom of this photo album.
Back in 2011 I was able to spend 2 days and nights at ESO Paranal Observatory in the Atacama Desert in Chile. I could then watch the opening of the domes of the Very Large Telescope, visit the control rooms and interact with the scientists. At night, I was allowed to stay at the platform, watch the stars and take astrophotos such as the one above. I had never seen such clear starry skies in my life and up to these days I haven't yet seen a better one.
Using an 8" SCT Meade LX10, a TV screen to help with the focus and my first digital camera, a Nikon Coolpix 4500, I enjoyed following the solar activity and getting a nice tan at the same time.
There was a time when I enjoyed sketching and also building mechanical gadgets to help with my astronomical observations. Moving to Germany has killed this hobby, as I lost access to machine shops and raw material. I also lost most of my free time and the motivation to keep sketching.
A possible nova had been discovered in the constellation of Cygnus on 18 August 2001 at magnitude 8.8 and by coincidence I had taken a photo of the same field a few hours before the discovery. I rushed to get the film revealed (it was that time...) and after hearing about my story, a specialist offered to digitally scan my negative for free. It looked like the nova was there at the limiting magnitude of the photo, but the film granulation interfered in the identification. After showing the digital image to some professionals, nobody could really tell if the star was or not registered there. I was a bit disappointed but I learned many things during the process, such as that a "fainter than XY.Z" observation is also valid in this case. The nova was confirmed by another observer and got the designation V2275 Cyg.