There comes a time in life when you begin to deeply appreciate the beauty of late August or early September afternoons, just before the sun sets. You savour the evening coolness that gradually envelops you as you sit on a stone, a chair or a bench, conversing with yourself, surrounded by a deep peace that comes from life's experiences.

There comes a time when you become acutely aware of the value of time, which seems to be getting scarcer and scarcer. At this stage you seek quality, not quantity. You carefully and selfishly choose the things to which you devote your time.

There comes a time when you discover, observe and savour only the beauty in everything, seeing simplicity as the highest form of refinement. Like that summer evening in Crete when I came across a fragment of a bas-relief, an ancient artefact. It depicted Zeus with Europa, the daughter of King Agenor, in his arms.

In this scene, Zeus is transformed into a bull to avoid being recognised by his wife Hera.

I was fascinated by this bas-relief. It was on the wall of a house in one of the narrow streets of the Greek island. Every evening I would go to the café in front of it, drink a glass of red wine and look at the expression in their eyes. I was, and still am, fascinated by the intensity of Zeus's gaze, which brought that cold marble to life. His gaze reflected all the love, desire, wonder, care and tenderness he felt, as well as his overwhelming admiration for Europa's beauty and youth.

The sculptor captured this with great simplicity, stripping away all unnecessary detail. As I admired the artist's craftsmanship, I thought that he must have experienced a similar love story himself, and that this must surely have been his last work.

Every day I would wait for evening to fall, eager to savour this piece of beauty as the night deepened until I could no longer see the sea, only hear the sound of its waves crashing against the shore as they had for centuries.