A Day with Ash

So I should be doing a history assignment right now. But my mate Ash is way more exciting than the Spanish Civil War (no offense to any Spaniards out there - who knows, maybe my blog is like Vogue to the inhabitants of Spain... a less interesting, less fashionable, cheap and tacky Vogue...). SO instead, I decided to post some of the very bizarre photos I took of Ash and the place she calls home.

The view from the citycat. It may be a small and twee version of the real thing, but I like the small and twee Brisbane Eye that no-one every uses. I think it's pretty. No sarcasm. 

The wooden thing is a drawing quill, which I played with a lot, especially on Ash's Maths C homework. 

These are weird. You have been warned. Ash was warned too. But I like them. The word needs a little weirdness from time to time to balance out the drudgery of work and the people who engage in it. I like these shots because they look like they could be underwater, especially the way her hair flies out around her face and the scarf spins. 

 I have proclaimed my love for Ashleigh in numerous other posts (the cocaine to my Charlie Sheen, thee butter to my muffin), but I will say it again quickly. Never have I met a person who is so fully themselves, so much an adorer of life and all its quirks. I have never met a person who will dance through the city with me, or wander around a place they've never been just to explore - or wander around a place they know well, just to discover small details they never noticed. Ash is fantastically, inspirationally creative, but it's more than that. She is the kind of person that most call 'mad' and only a gifted few call 'genius'. I stand firmly at the 'genius' end, but I can't say that being called mad is entirely bad either, especially when you have as much fun with it as Ash does.