Stackt Market turned a tiny Filipino lime into a whole festival and I showed up in a sundress with kalamansi on my lips wondering why sour always makes me want to do something sweet. You want a taste?
Stackt Market turned a tiny Filipino lime into a whole festival and I showed up in a sundress with kalamansi on my lips wondering why sour always makes me want to do something sweet. You want a taste?
Twenty-five years of JerkFest and I still can't figure out what survives scotch bonnet smoke and August humidity at the same time. Which one are you taking off me first?
Came home from Bloor with all that Koreatown bass still rattling in my chest, picked up my guitar to channel it somewhere — but my hands had a different idea about where the night should go. You want to hear how it sounds when I stop holding back?
Danforth tonight means Greek everything, so I'm already in the kitchen with lemon and olive oil and absolutely nothing else on. Want a taste before we even leave?
Came home still humming someone else's love song, halfway out of my dress before I even made it past the hallway — she kept calling it an art form and I'm still figuring out my medium. Want to help me practice?
Whole city went quiet after the weekend and all that leftover noise had to go somewhere. My hands found the only rhythm that helps. Tell me what you'd do if you walked in right now.
The festival's over and my apartment looks like a costume department exploded — sequins in the kitchen, feathers in the hallway, and me sitting in the middle of it all in one stolen t-shirt pretending I have my life together. What's the first thing you'd rescue me from?
Caribana washed right off me the second I stepped inside but the buzz is still humming through every inch of me. Tell me what you'd do with all this leftover energy.
Lakeshore is a wall of soca and feathers and I've been dancing in this heat until my top's clinging to nothing but sweat. You'd lose your mind watching me wine like this.
Caribana morning and I'm already buzzing before the parade even starts — couldn't help myself, hands between my thighs thinking about all that soca and sweat. Wish you were here to feel how wet this city makes me.