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audrey di mola – folkloric futurism

wilds of the deep heart // adventures in weaving earth, body, story + spirit

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“teach others to See by Seeing.

teach others to Understand by Understanding.

lead others to Walk by Walking.

but walk Beside them and not in Front.

walk With them as i walk With you.

and we shall see these coming days already in fruition,

in every righteous action resolving inaction,

in every fiery force of Love dissolving fear.”

— THE BOOK OF LEGEND, 2019.

SEEK + YOU SHALL FIND

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PUBLICATIONS

Decisions We Make While We Dream (2012)

TRAVERSALS (2014)

WILDLIGHT (2018)

THE BOOK OF LEGEND (2019)

INSTAGRAM ADVENTURES

i've been called into something that needs time, trust + incubation.

🌬️ 'iron john, iron john, iron john' 💙💛 my thxgiving was spent in the company of stories, wrestling with choices. and i do mean Wrestling. 🌌

she calls me like a siren. something Bigger, even. than these baddest dreams. something more ancient, primordial, protective. something that it Wishes it could destroy, but Knows it can't.

my teeth are growing in again, pushing against the uppermost of my jaw. two wisdom teeth are missing, from my twenties, and two i still retain; i see steeples in the distance and walk towards them, i know my feet already know the way. my father has discouraged himself from the thought of moving from his lifelong home because he's certain everything in his head will chase him wherever he goes. he's not wrong. i reflect on this, having Achieved what i have dreamed of, assailed by the tiresome aches of past and present, Still-- there is a statue of mary ahead of me, blue and white, open armed, i know already how i will feel standing in front of her, i know already my feet Know The Way. i sat next to him, her father, gently rocking by the fire in her childhood home, telling me the story of the young man who loves nothing more than weaving flower crowns for the statue of the virgin, he could see himself doing Nothing More; even the holy men of the monastery did not understand when he tried to join them, they said it was paganism, the virgin told him, Herself, the statue came to life in ways i have dreamed and felt and Seen-- your words will weave the crowns, and from his mouth the prayers became the blossoms. at least that's how i remember it, may my prayers become the blossoms for my tender heart, oh mother, Oh Mother. may it Be. 🌸

the feeling when you're walking back to your new place in your dreamy town and you see the candle you left lit for yourself in the window. the candle you always associate with safe places for travellers. the candle your dad put batteries in while you were gone, because he shows his love in millions of small ways yet almost never directly. the feeling when you see the silhouette of your black wolf next to the candlelight, the gift your sister made you for your birthday one year. the appropriate-ness of knowing that it is double-sided-- that the white wolf is looking over the inward space, while the black wolf is keeping watch without. the feeling when you're no longer constantly fucking wrestling with your guilt, or with yourself about whether or not you deserve this.

Gratefull. 🌇♾️🏞️ #famiglia

ah, god. 🥰❤️‍🔥❄️🦊🥲🏞️

i've been making wishes on the first snow since i was in 10th grade... i didn't have to make a wish this time. 🥰 #welcomehome 🤍🌨️❄️

it has taken every ounce of strength i have to say farewell for now, NYC. i'll be back + forth, keeping the thread shining + twining in the light. 🏞️♾️🌇 but for this moment i head onward, to Home for the next few months-- exactly what i have been dreaming of + into since my birthday in august. i read this letter my nana wrote me when i was 11 or 12 this morning for some encouragement 🦁💗 river to river, here i go.. see you soon, my BEACON. 🌟🌊🙏🤞🐾

'There is something in the very oxygen of modernity that is drying out our relationship to imagination, the unruly wild, even the divine. When we enter a rite-of-passage the image or request may come that we lose our head.

we broke up today, 1 year ago. it feels like we've reached the last part of the portal. living through, one by one, markers, birthdays, remembrances. now This. i saw a heron on instagram today. Of Course i did.

it is 7 years to the day since this story, these beings, came to me unsolicited in my time of deep crisis. the book of legend holds them in page but i know i am being called to bring them Out. they are my cross-section of mental health and myth. of healing and story. of reality and vision. i wrote to @idha_nyc yesterday that i tried to put my diagnosis in a box and that box exploded. the voices i heard, the beings i could see in my mind's eye, the blurring over of mythos into waking life.. it was like it was when i was a child. it has never stopped.

i'm watching from afar as a friend mourns her ex-boyfriend. he is a star; the death was sudden + yet expected. all the news articles flood in. addiction + mental illness. addiction + mental illness. dead at 34. dead at 34. 'i had held out hope that someday you would get the help you desperately needed.'

To Have The Courage To Fall In Love.

Home
HerStory
Body of Work + Upcoming
Folkloric Futurism

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