I went out for a walk to clear my head and ended up standing in front of this massive teepee in the Quartier des Spectacles, completely mesmerized. My sketchbook is going to eat this up. Sometimes the city hands you exactly what you didn't know you needed.
All that color and noise from the Village is still under my skin and I can't settle down — so I stopped trying. Want to see what the city did to me?
Coffee's done and I've got the whole morning to myself — so I'm spending it exactly how it sounds. Want to hear how it ends?
The whole city is still buzzing from the festival and I'm here in the dark with my hand between my legs thinking about how much better this would feel with someone watching. Want to be that someone?
Osheaga is shaking the whole island tonight and I can feel the bass through my window — but I'm having a much quieter kind of fun in here. Care to join me?
The heat in this city has no manners — it just strips you down without asking. Good thing I wasn't planning on getting dressed anyway. Care to join me?
Thursday nights are for unwinding my way — and I'm not even close to done yet. Care to watch?
Monday walks are my reset button — twenty minutes outside and suddenly the week feels manageable again, one step at a time.
Saturday night and I'm already in my softest sweatpants with Dermot Kennedy on repeat — my friends keep telling me I should go out more, but honestly, this is exactly where I want to be.
My sketchbook understands me better than most people do — no expectations, no judgment, just lines and shadows that become whatever I need them to be at 2 AM.