I’m Ashley, self-made scribe and nomadic wanderer through Neverland. I’ve been spinning tales ever since I first laid hands on a dollhouse. With storytelling I discovered the divinity of imagination, unwrapping the magnetism of the mind like a champion star from the cabinet of cosmic gift. I was my own aeroplane chilling in the exosphere, head in the sky, soul in the stars, every story sanctioned by an audience of silver-lined clouds. I was hooked by the gravity of ephemera, gripped by the revelry of gourmet happenings, the risk that everything might be outrageously gorgeous behind the world’s nightmarish grimace. I believe that life is more brilliant Renaissance than bloody revolution, smiles outnumber shadows, and small talk might someday touch shoulders with psychic ascension. It could be true. One kiss of fantasy and it could be fluttering in my palm like a butterfly.
I loved fairy tales like a foodie loves tacos, and it morphed into a hobby that blossomed in my teens.
During my daydream-drenched free time I worked on the compilation of over a dozen chronicles of poetry. Late-night brainstorming sessions revealed worlds of dizzying white, pages ripe with poetry that glittered like snowy mountain peaks; one sip of syntax and I’d be skylarking through ecstasy. I’d spend hours reveling in Dickinson and her delicious dashes, in Muir and his naturopathic knowing, pouring most of my adolescent life into the pursuit of English and its exotic powers of passion and persuasion. Though my time is now tethered to more tangible worlds, moonlit strolls through the labyrinth of language still remains my preferred method of travel.
Hi! I’m Ashley.
I was born in the middle of nowhere, made it to adulthood, and now I’m here to freak you out.
I’m here to please you until you’re knocked unconscious by the sheer goodness of my 100% organic nonsense.
I’m here to grab my lute from Mount Olympus and pluck you into a mesmerized pile of mortal awe,
to sing to you so sweetly you keel over and cry,
to spark your inner moondrunk psychic and send you tumbling over the Great Wall of Reality into the velvety womb of the void.
I’m here to teleport you to an undiscovered planet the shade of hot Cheetos where you’ll apprentice Cheeto wizards in ooky spooky-looking tree stump dens, eat neon mushrooms for breakfast and earn the title of High-Quality Cheeto Brethren.
I will pander you into a such a plump panda daze that you’re just bursting full of bamboo milk and can’t do anything but burp and wonder what the heck just happened.
I’ll do whatever.
Whatever I do, you can’t complain. There’s something for everyone in this joint, so pass it around.
Warning: Has not been evaluated for safety in infants and the elderly and anyone with a normal nine to five. Definitely not FDA-approved or earthly in origin. May have something to do with aliens and faerie dust, in that order. May leave a slight taste of chocolate and cosmic stardust on the tongue.