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Surrender to the present post.

Bonjour. I am Frida. This is where I write about anxiety, art, trying to make art, anxiety associated with trying to make art, and other highly marketable stuff like that.
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Day 20: Pendueles to Llanes, via my true emo soul, my non-Camino self and a lot of amazing cafes (17
“If (the) love feels too tight, it isn’t your size.” Day 20 is a different kind of day. I wake up and all the people in my room at Casa...
Sep 25, 20225 min read


Day 17: Santillana Del Mar to Playa Oyambre (28,7k, in flip flops, on asphalt, while drunk)
We awaken to a less than ideal situation… all our clothes are still wet. Plus, we arrived so late after all the ice cream and beer and...
Sep 23, 20224 min read


Day 15: Santander – Mar (27,4k)
There are no blankets at the albergue, and even though I go to bed in all my warmest clothes – wool trousers, socks and a fleece jacket –...
Sep 23, 20222 min read


Day 13 (?) Guemes – Guemes, via All the Emotions (3,5k)
Oh wow. Where to start. It’s 09:40 on Day 13, or is it 14, I don’t know anymore. But I thought it was 14, which is supposed to be a...
Sep 21, 20229 min read


Day 11: Islares – Santoña (secret number of not-enough k)
After Ralph joins me on the cape we go to a surf shack overlooking the water. We drink beer and milkshakes and I eat a ribeye burger with...
Sep 18, 20229 min read


Day 2: Pasajes to My Personal Hell, via San Sebastián (17k)
After a night in San Juan, I descend the steps to the port where the hospitalero has told us to catch the ferry. “How often do they go?”...
Sep 14, 20229 min read


“We either die of the past or we become an artist.”
The woman who wrote this was Deborah Levy but I am not sure if she is the one who thought it, or if Louise Bourgeois thought it and...
Sep 13, 20228 min read
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