The Journal; less edited, more rambling.
Monday. A week that takes us into June, and as good time as any to get back into old-school blogging. Don't worry, I won't start posting photos of my breakfast. I recently did a writers retreat and if there is one thing I take with me, it is the importance
I am not saying I'm writing this post only to share my volcano pictures, but I will admit it is a contributing factor. If you had spent all that effort dragging your massive camera on top of a volcano and standing in close to freezing temperatures to take pictures of
2015 I went nomadic. It was supposed to be a four-month-long break from my dreary Swedish routine. I would keep working in corporate but trade the 07:08 subway commute to an early morning walk on the beach, my winter coat to a bikini, and office life to something with
When was the last time you felt happy and content?
Of all the places I pictured myself at for my 34th birthday, self-isolating in a camper van in New Zealand due to a rampant pandemic was not one of them. As @ Effinbirds [https://www.instagram.com/p/B9wp1sEJYVr] eloquently phrased it: ”This went from zero to clusterfuck in a hurry.
I've been dreaming of joining the social experiment in Black Rock City for a long time. Last year I logged on before the ticket sale started, patiently waited for two hours in the infamous online queue, only to find out it was sold out. This year history repeated itself. But,
On asking questions instead of giving advice.