Sania Mallory : galerie

Got back from the quay still smelling like gunpowder and whatever they put in those festival drinks — the fireworks were unreal but my neighbours don't need to know I haven't finished undressing yet. Want to see what's under all these layers?

Down at the quay before anyone else — they're still putting up the tents and I already know tonight's going to get away from me. Fireworks over the water and nothing on my schedule till then. You coming down?

The sky's got something rare planned for tonight and I'm already picking which back road has the least light pollution. Got room for one more in the passenger seat?

Editing last weekend's footage and somewhere along the way my shirt stopped being a priority. The monitor's doing all the lighting and honestly it's doing me favors. Want to see what I'm not posting publicly?

Festibière doesn't open till Thursday, which gives me exactly enough time to figure out what I'm wearing and not much else. You can weigh in — but I'm not promising I'll listen.

Last day of Nouvelle-France and Old Quebec's already pretending to go quiet — but the cobblestones still smell like woodsmoke and someone's still playing fiddle three streets over. I'm not ready to let it go either. You coming back for one more round before the lights come up?

Baie de Beauport sounds different when the sun drops — the bass gets heavier, the sand stays warm under your feet, and nobody's pretending they came for the food. Three bands in and I've lost my flip-flops somewhere between the stage and the waterline. You ever let a beach festival pull you barefoot into the dark?

Wendake does something to sound — every riff lands inside your chest. The Zeppelin tribute just ended and I'm the last one still in my seat, like the night owes me an encore. You ever refuse to leave before the lights fully come up?

The whole city's in costume tonight and I didn't bother — some of us don't need one to be the main event. Slipped out of the crowd just long enough to catch my breath. You ever let a festival carry you somewhere you weren't planning?

Two days until the city throws a party and I'm already ahead of schedule — this light has me in a mood I wasn't planning for. Want a preview before the crowds ruin it?