audrey dimola[art for the wild]

Posts Tagged ‘nature

polarbear

yes, there were many joyful things mixed with the blood. – clarice lispector.

sometimes all we can offer are the words. sometimes all we have are the words. and for that i am grateful. this came to me like a wild mother, like a hand of profound power and gentle grace. she is what is comforting me in this moment of uncertainty- all deep breaths and strangeness. below is only a portion of this piece- my hand wouldn’t stop moving. i know this will play a part in annunciation, my third offering to the world- this word that has been following me around in different forms, different adventures, different creatures- since the summer. a friend and fellow poetess told me that doing the polar bear plunge is “good for the guides.” i had no idea how right she was. the door to this opened when i tried to start writing about myself in a loving way.. no coincidence. this is as much for you as it is for me.

**

the eyes that have been wearing glasses since childhood but only so the heart can see clearer. in the mists of the night, the reflected deer soul crossing your path. i am going to make a work of striking, strange oneness. like reality percepted itself. HEART that loves to the point of ruin, stands in the fire city, recreates it from mud and ash again, not blinking. not asking for anything, but THIS, always this. earth city, mud city, the hand palms and feet soles that bless the wounds and suck the energy from sky, air, ground, trees, dirt- drink it desperately like GOOD MEDICINE- the only kind left- the body you once extricated, criticized, now crashed to wholeness by the perfect sea- i am salt and longing, fragmented light still twinkling with magic so ancient from before i was born this way- it constantly tells me i’m okay and some days i feel pure enough to believe it, my hand going to pins and needles as i write this, my body born again in the shock of aliveness, perfect frigid waters, crying and laughing, howling, this is how we were born- and some days i feel wild enough to believe it. near to the wild heart i am cleansed by my own blood spilled, i want to look at it in my hands, know i died for something- gasping, gaping, the way an open wound breathes open mouthed just before healing- twinkling, i had never felt my lungs before, i had never heard my heart before- I AM. like she before me and all the animals i am still a cave painting swirling wind, fur and belief- fossilized in crouched cocoon i can feel myself at the river’s edge- I COME FROM SOMEWHERE ELSE and that place has healed me. make enough space in between your bones and ache for the incantation to begin, this is how we turn salt to sinew, memory to surrender to what is greater, wordless- i am always edging the notion between words and sleep, stretching like fingers towards the whole damn world’s oblivion, even jesus the christ had to leave to come back, you always wander to return, RENEWED. bless this heart, these hands, these teeth that love too purely, salt in the fierceness, the wound, the truth, the library- all i can do is scribble at the doorways in my head, i will unlock them all with heart fire the way a blaze never asks permission, it just comes to return and then leaves as if it never left, this is eternity in the flesh- can you feel it? burning boats and bridges, sweet algae climbing on the sides of memory, grasping, drinking, gulping the marrow- i will stay close to the lupine heart, i will be rock and moss and teeth and shadow- i will be the sunburst on the water, i will sing with eyes electric, i will stand at helm of fearful generator but in GREATNESS- I AM.

XO

a.

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today is my beautiful little sister’s 18th birthday. man! time is flying. why do we always say that? i’m grateful to be here in this moment.. so grateful.

this past summer has been one of, if not the, most important of my life. i have learned that you cannot fight or force your feelings. every bit of anxiety, restlessness, electricity, emotion- comes from somewhere. and it’s up to you to stop resisting and start listening to what your body and your emotions are trying to tell you. the resulting journey may dismantle you, make people worry a lot about you, question your every move, and fracture the very ground you stand on. but i promise you- it has a purpose.

someday you’ll know why you were never satisfied.

here i stand, in the knowing.

i’ve started a journey to becoming a wilderness guide/educator and also realized how much i love talking to the newer generations about positivity, potential, and the power of words and thoughts. there have also been many moments in the months since the summer that have been downright pitch black. dizzying. soul splitting. but you realize that- this is the point. to push ourselves to our edges and then find the strength to push right PAST.

speaking to a room full of kids, exploring with new souls, sharing my art, taking risks, putting my process on display, going into the woods, learning brand new tasks, trudging up a mountain.. it’s all destroying the parts of me that aren’t golden. aren’t infinite. stripping the useless husks of ego.. to the eternal bloom of light that lies within.

i feel so grateful to everyone i’ve met on this path, whether still with me or not. whether long-standing or brand new. i feel like the universe is placing my steps.. and as scared as i get. as much as that darkness beckons. as much as the questions and the uncertainty whisper to me from the edges.. i know i have to push. and keep pushing. for myself, for everyone. choosing energy. choosing passion. choosing self-expression. choosing wildness. CHOOSING LIFE.

i wrote the piece below for the WORDS WITH WINGS show at THE GRIND on 9/30 that was my first step back into curating and performing after the summer. i also performed it for 10 classes in a row at my high school recently, and its meaning was solidified..

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i am walking forward, INTO THE WILD. events are coming up including MASHUPS on 10/28 at queens council on the arts, a wild rumpus night of new work and free creation featuring visual art, music, poetry, dance, and a wildcard theme of tarot! i will be pushing my own edges this night and we will be responding to each other, to the themes, to the audience, in the moment.

my third book is breaking its own edges.. i’m looking at early 2016 to heal wounds and honor this stretch of the journey since the summer. the process is beginning..

words are going up around my neighborhood and beyond as i re-embrace my duty as messenger.

i will keep challenging myself. and i will stay free. as my family has said, time and time again.. NEVER A DULL MOMENT. but how could there be?

‘without enchantment, the rest is useless’ (borges) —

XO

a.

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***

this. is. for. you:
it doesn’t matter how old you are
what you’re deathly scared of
what is hurting your heart.
it doesn’t matter how many times
you wake up feeling anxious
how many times you reach for
the pen, the camera, the brush, the computer,
the door- and feel it’s pointless.
you. must. go. on.

I BOW ONLY TO THE FIRE INSIDE ME &
THE WINGS ON MY BACK.

even when your palms are bleeding- open your hands. you must go on. your search for meaning amounts to this- above all- it is whatever you create. whatever meaning you ascribe, you are the scribe, the wild messenger. plunge your restless fingers into the dark and with all your heart, pry yourself from what you cannot belong to. put your paws in the earth, hang your fears on tree branches, and go.

if you don’t recognize yourself in the mirror, smash it. if your key doesn’t work, put your fist through the door. if your heart can’t possibly shatter any further, put a lantern in your chest. light a match in the endless tunnels twisting inside your head. IMAGINE a way out, the way you did when you were only a child- you had it right. all those monsters run away if you can shine a brighter light. so SHINE ON, my friends. as bright as you can. conjure your own spell for resurrection, believe again in your alchemy, necromancy, turn the blood to gold and gold to armor, you will live again to fight another day.

wander the desert. pick through the bones. sing in the forest. keep anything that echoes. let the ocean beat against you, let the steepness of the cliff dismantle your ego. and start again. and again. and again. and again. this is the wilderness codex, the code of living forever. dying as many times as you have to. the moment you hit the ground is the first breath that you heave again. if you can’t get up, can’t go on, can’t walk another step, just WILL YOUR WINGS TO WORK.

I BOW ONLY TO THAT FIRE INSIDE ME &
THOSE WINGS ON MY BACK.

so many of us are walking around powerless. i am calling to you, my sisters & brothers, my wild souls, my rebel poets, my warriors of the light.

wear no shoes, climb up to a roof, speak to your city, ignite the mic and as long as it comes from your burning heart don’t regret anything you have to say.

stop disappearing into a faceless army. stop going back to your apartment, doing your job, going to sleep. that tingling in your throat, it’s starting something. it may come out hoarse but it’s a beautiful beginning. the messenger gave you a legend, a scripture, a tale to tell around a fire the way we did in ancient days. your words can turn ash to ember.

BELIEVE it. NOW BLAZE.

***

EVENTS COMING UP:

10/28/15 – Audrey Dimola presents MASHUPS! performance & workshop at Queens Council on the Arts in Astoria [Facebook]

11/12/15 – Nature of the Muse fireside reading/live writing series returns to LIC Bar [Facebook]

11/18/15#neonrebellion kickoff with Nick Neon arrives at Q.E.D. in Astoria [Facebook]

{{thank. you. one. &. all.}}

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“IT IS NEVER A MISTAKE TO SEARCH FOR WHAT ONE REQUIRES. NEVER.”

“the hallmark of the wild nature is that it goes on. it perseveres. this is not something we do. it is something we are, naturally and innately.”

“the most important thing is to hold on, hold out, for your creative life, for your solitude, for your time to be and do, for your very life; HOLD ON.” – women who run with the wolves

it’s been a helluva summer.

i bless myself with this pen and page. your heart can’t beat when it’s stuck in a cage- GET OUT. get out. breathe. live. do. BE GRATEFUL. we feel lost because we don’t see a path but we forget that’s because WE have to blaze it. don’t like where you are? change it. grind against what’s killing you, shed your skin, begin again. it’s never too late for a new origin story. the dark is real but so is your armor- reflect the light and keep getting stronger… i bow only to the fire inside me & the wings on my back~*

HELLO BEAUTIFUL HUMANS. i’m riding the lightning & last bits of this thunderbolt of a summer. i haven’t done any curated events of my own since june but HERE COMES THE FALL!

please join me for these shows because they’re not only meant for presentation, they are meant for PARTICIPATION. i’m in the mood to keep brewing and hope you are too ;)

want to:
– create a pair of wings made of positive words
– respond in the moment to your fellow cross-genre artists
– cozy up by the fire for mayhem & magic
– experiment/engage/build community?!

i gotchu.

COME OUT:

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9/30/15WORDS WITH WINGS, co-producing/hosting all-poetry show with THE GRIND in LIC & its amazing founder, spoken word poet/motivator SAFIEL VONAY (this girl is bonkers, check her out). this is the kickoff & the fireworks show!! feat. thomas fucaloro, shafina ahmed, steven licardi & others, special intro by safiel & i, plus more: live art/feathers project/mini open mic/artists to support including my amazing sister april tigerlily! let’s start the fall on a good foot & remember our WINGS. 11-27 44th rd LIC, doors at 7pm, 7:30-11:30pm [more info]

10/28/15Audrey Dimola presents MASHUPS! performance/workshop at Queens Council on the Arts in Astoria. it’s been a longtime dream of mine to feature artists responding to each other across genres, in the moment (!) – visual art, dance, poetry & music. this is the first & if you’re into it, please attend/email me for future events! feat. dancer caitlyn casson, musician jacob horstmeier, & more. 37-11 35th ave in astoria, 6:30-8 or 8:30pm.

11/12/15My Nature of the Muse fireside reading/live writing series returns to LIC Bar! this show is my very first baby & i’m so excited to bring it back to LIC bar a little earlier this year! five writers share their previously written work & then write LIVE from random prompts written by the audience. did i mention it’s by the fire?! feat. alicen grey, timothy bell, tippy rex, hala alyan & yi wu, w/special musical guests katelyn richards & luca difabio. 45-58 vernon blvd in LIC, 7:30pm.

11/18/15#neonrebellion kickoff with Nick Neon arrives at Q.E.D. in Astoria. want to be a part of a new supportive community of rebel-artists sharing work, asking questions, taking risks & encouraging each other to make art? stay tuned. we about the rock the joint. 27-16 23rd ave in astoria, 8:30pm.

***PS***

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thanks to my awesome brother i’m returning to my roots in journalism with a new arts interview webshow (!!!) called ART FOR THE WILD produced by colored in black productions, shot & edited by my aforementioned videographer/editor brother dominick! debut episodes feature one of my favorite collaborators & humans in general, MARC MONTFLEURY! check it out! can’t wait to share more stories & performances of the amazing folks i know & love..

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i’m SUPER proud to announce my story is appearing in an amazing book & initiative from my fantastic friend josh rivedal called The i’Mpossible Project: Reengaging With Life, Creating a New You. there are essays from myself and over 40 other life-warriors who have overcome tremendous odds, like josh himself who turned tragedy into new beginnings and ways to help others. preorders start tomorrow, more info is here!

***PAYING IT FWD***

my girl monica montgomery is launching the world’s first mobile/pop-up social justice museum, the MUSEUM OF IMPACT, this sunday 9/20 at 4pm in harlem! please come and help make history! it will be popping up from the launch until 9/24, so come for events each day like five boro story project’s uptown social justice story share 9/22 (from my other wonderful friend bridget!).

growing heart farm in upstate NY gave me so much this summer by accepting me with open arms & allowing me to work & stay in nature, and i want everyone to know what magic and healing they bring. please join them for an open retreat weekend with exploration, movement, yoga, and farm food (!!) oct 2-4. more info is here!

***LET ME TELL YOU Y’ALL***

THERE ARE NO MISTAKES IN ART.

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(new handmade versions of compass project poetry!)

stop disappearing into a faceless army. stop going back to your apartment, doing your job, going to sleep. that tingling in your throat, it’s starting something. it may come out hoarse but it’s a beautiful beginning. the messenger gave you a legend, a scripture, a tale to tell around a fire the way we did in ancient days. your words can turn ash to ember. BELIEVE it. NOW BLAZE.

go north / go forth,

XO

a.

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can there be any possibility of completely understanding who we are and why we’re here or where we are going? […] you have to keep on asking. -kunitz

IT’S MY BIRTHDAY! <3 (leo grrlz throw ya paws up!! ;))

thank you all for helping make it a crazy-beautiful and incredibly memorable trip around the sun..

for all the words, the enthusiasm, shows attended, inspiration shared, hugs exchanged, hearts touched, collaborations made, opportunities presented, magic conjured, and LOVE given freely.. thank you, thank you, thank you.

for this one life, this voyage of mine that sometimes veers into the wildest of waters- i am so grateful.

i realized the other day that the gorgeous moments of life are a lot of like bright islands in a shadowy sea.

each moment stands like an island circling light like a beacon in the darkness- it can’t be compared to anything else, it just is. even lost in the wild sea, know that- a few more breaths, strokes- the light will fill you, find you again. be witness to what it is you feel. the grace in almost drowning and finding another island. life is like that. light-filled islands in the dark, wild sea. shifting, eroding, flooding, so you can’t quite stay, but god.. so beautiful while you do.

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my birthday wish is to remain cognizant of how lucky i am, every. single. day.

i want to share 29 pieces of wisdom with you that have been helping me through the wilderness of this particularly heart-cracking summer.

with fire-filled thanks for my twenty-ninth year..

out of darkness lion heart pumping,

XO

a.

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29 for 29 / how to make it through the wilderness:

1. don’t forget that this too is part of the magic you have to offer the world. this pain we go through. our wilderness years. –nick calder

2. in other words, fear doesn’t go away. the warrior and the artist live by the same code of necessity, which dictates that the battle must be fought anew everyday. –the war of art

3. discontent, restlessness, doubt, despair, longing […] instead of facing them, one runs away; one escapes- into depressions, nervous breakdowns, drink, love affairs, or frantic, thoughtless, fruitless overwork. anything, rather than face them. anything, rather than stand still and learn from them. one tries to cure the signs of growth, to exorcise them, as if they were devils, when they really might be angels of annunciation. –gift from the sea

4. we insist on permanency, on duration, on continuity; when the only continuity possible, in life as in love, is in growth, in fluidity- in freedom. –gift from the sea

5. maybe that’s why i have a fragile heart. you can’t accept everything, or you become a monster. –the golden legend (film)

6. the kinds of discoveries that are made through practice have nothing to do with believing in anything. they have much more to do with having the courage to die, the courage to die continually. –when things fall apart

7. you don’t have to have a college degree to serve. you don’t have to make your subject and your verb agree to serve. you don’t have to know about plato and aristotle to serve. you don’t have to know einstein’s theory of relativity to serve. you only need a heart full of grace. a soul generated by love. and you can be that servant. –MLK

8. being preoccupied with our self-image is like being deaf and blind. it’s like standing in the middle of a vast field of wildflowers with a black hood over our heads. –when things fall apart

9. if you don’t go out in the woods, nothing will ever happen and your life will never begin. –women who run with the wolves

10. there must be a little, and in many cases, a good deal of blood spilled on every story, on every aspect of your own life […] if a person is to carry a true medicine. –women who run with the wolves

11. listen to the birds always. –shane hobel, mountain scout survival

12. and though of magnificence and splendour, your house shall not hold your secret nor shelter your longing. for that which is boundless in you abides in the mansion of the sky, whose door is the morning mist, and whose windows are the songs and the silences of night. –the prophet

13. do it with all your heart and then don’t care when it breaks. –eduardo, on the metro

14. I placed one foot on the wide plain
of death, and some grand immensity
sounded on the emptiness.

I have felt nothing ever
like the wild wonder of that moment. –rumi

15. for horror not to repeat itself endlessly we have to understand its makeup, be willing to look at it, get close to it, at the same time not burn up with it. what we avoid corrupts and deforms us- we are always twisting away from it. and it shows in our writing, in the way we sit and walk. –the true art of writing

16. it is not the desert island nor the stony wilderness that cuts you from the people you love. it is the wilderness in the mind, the desert wastes in the heart through which one wanders lost and a stranger. when one is a stranger to oneself then one is estranged from others too. if one is out of touch with oneself, then one cannot touch others. […] only when one is connected to one’s own core is one connected to others, i am beginning to discover… –gift from the sea

17. only to the extent that we expose ourselves over and over to annihilation can that which is indestructible be found in us. –when things fall apart

18. ask not of things to shed their veils. unveil yourselves, and things will be unveiled. nor ask of things to break their seals. unseal ourselves, and all will be unsealed. […] if, then, your world be such a baffling riddle, it is because you are that baffling riddle. and if your speech be such a woeful maze, it is because you are that woeful maze. –the book of mirdad

19. if there’s a god or any kind of justice under the sky
if there’s a point, if there’s a reason to live or die
if there’s an answer to the questions we feel bad to ask
show yourself, destroy your fears, release your mask… –QUEEN [listen]

20. ’i’ve been through all this before,’ he says to his heart.
‘yes, you have been through all this before,’ replies his heart.
‘but you have never been beyond it.’ –coelho

21. i am always being overwhelmed, i require it to sustain life. –everett ruess

22. TODAY IS A GOOD DAY FOR MY EGO TO DIE! –nahko [listen]

23. what the hibernating winter in their blood/ needs to become- some dreaming scene/ of humans lumbering away, walking/ on their tongues and tasting/ the truth of the earth. –hochman

24. how sublime is the silence of nature’s ever-active energies! there is something in the very name of wilderness, which charms the ear, and soothes the spirit of man. there is religion in it. -wilderness & the american mind

25. TODAY, TODAY LIVE LIKE YOU WANNA
LET YESTERDAY BURN & THROW IT IN A FIRE
IN A FIRE, IN A FIRE
LIVE LIKE A WARRIOR –matisyahu [listen]

26. But often, in the din of strife,
There rises an unspeakable desire
After the knowledge of our buried life;
A thirst to spend our fire and restless force
In tracking out our true, original course;
A longing to inquire
Into the mystery of this heart which beats
So wild, so deep in us- to know
Whence our lives come and where they go. -m.arnold

27. We want so much,
When perhaps we live best
In the spaces between loves,

That unconscious roving,
The heart its own rough animal.
Unfettered. -tracy k. smith

28. an animal flowers in the elements. it grows wings. –humanimal

29. the solution for me, surely, is neither in total renunciation of the world, nor in total acceptance of it. i must find a balance somewhere, or an alternating rhythm between these two extremes; a swinging of the pendulum between solitude and communion, between retreat and return. –gift from the sea

& one for luck**

when you look back on a lifetime and think of what has been given to the world by your presence, your fugitive presence, inevitably you think of your art, whatever it may be, as the gift you have made to the world in acknowledgment of the gift you have been given, which is the life itself. and i think the world tends to forget that this is the ultimate significance of the body of work each artist produces. that work is not an expression of the desire for praise or recognition, or prizes, but the deepest manifestation of your gratitude for the gift of life. –kunitz

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lose your self-consciousness
gain your self-awareness
back.

be the light on the underside
of leaf
move like the forest teaches
you to move

the goal for you is to overcome
restriction

it is up to you to be a human
translation of the wild

be the wolf they can see in the
shine of your iris in sunlight

help them remember how. –notes from my treehouse

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things have been tumultuous.

today, on a whim, i got in a cab and told the driver: “anywhere in coney island.”

in my entire life, i don’t think i’ve ever been to the beach completely alone.

after having so much trouble writing.. relating. feeling. loving. believing.

in the sea, by the sea, as the sea- i was accepted, broken.

and in the space- i wrote.

i.
it is always as if- i am
seeing it for the first time.
i must believe as the first man did
god is in the ocean.
god is in the earth.
i no longer believe in one god.
i do not know of omniscience.
i only remember what healing is
when my feet touch scorching sand
particles glittering in a force
as wild
as i am.
nature is my only echo.
i am part and parcel.
crash of wave in my roiling heart.
murky depths.
unexplainable.
home to everything.
home to nothing.
home- forever changing.
i must have been a sailor.
because i can’t remember
what it’s like to not be in motion.
dwarfed and frightened and
awed by
majesty beyond your
mortal life.
when i arrive here:
I Arrive.
seagull shadow on
pen and paper.
leopard crabshell
discarded on the beach.
i want to walk
straight out into the
water
and never look back.
as hard as i try-
i cannot understand
anything else.
my heart on fire
has cooled
to floods, to this-
giving and taking
away, giving and
taking
away.
my mind which
never lets me
rest now
dissolving to
foam, bubble,
fragments. seabirds.
i know now
even the barnacles,
the ocean moss, the
crusted shells in
cluster-
have a place here.
i, too, would
latch on
and never leave.

ii.
i love
everything about
the ocean.
even, suddenly, things i couldn’t
bear to behold.
here there are no
notifications.
no guilt, no
smashed
hands or
phones.
you cannot force me
to feel.
i, who in these moments
have felt nothing,
now feel
all.
or at least-
the smallest glimmer
from a match-flick
of something.
an ocean whisper-
don’t leave us.
not yet.
we still have
things
to say.

iii.
if i could lead you
into a poem that is
my life
right now it would be
sounds and
only
darkness.
the slightest shrill of
wayfaring birds, the
slightest swing of
contained flame
in the distance
on the end of
an
outstretched arm,
the prow of a ship,
a billowing sail
saying only- i can
do this.
you must try
to move with me
in the dark.
walking will
do you no good here.
nor any knowledge
of four walls.
only sandy stretches
glittering like nebulas
a sky made of
bluing mussel shells
and fading
footprints.
there is no way
to make me see
otherwise-
the worldly things
besides
ankles tangled
with seaweed,
the crash of wave,
the
infinite
motion.
please do not
ask me to
stand still.
please do not beg me
to feel something
when i am curled
inside
these shadows.
only remind me
of the cycles.
the dusk and dawn
of the sea.
remind me that
these waters
in my heart
my head
this poem
are home for all
who have no
other place
to simply be.

iv.
i feel so infinite and
at peace.
like nothing exists
but this.
if i have to, everyday
or every other day or
every friday
i will return to
this ocean.
i feel as out of place
in the world as
a girl with fins
on land.
i am singing my own
sea shanty
in my heart
always.
i told him this morning
my heart feels like
a piece of driftwood
with the ocean crashing
against it.
and now here i am-
standing in the
water.
calmed by the sea
crashing into
me.

v.
this glittering sand
feels like
the most beautiful thing
i have ever seen.
it reminds me what i am a
part of and
what is a part
of me.

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thank you, coney island.

XO

a.

BILLY: Nice and cool out here. Stars look like the milk of heaven. Peaceful. A man could—
ROSA: Change?
–anaya

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there once was a girl
who thought she was too wild to be loved.

her mind had been fragmented
by too much useless information
and too much worry.
too many expectations
and too much distraction.

she cut her ties to the world and laid down in the grass,
looking up at the sky and the undersides of leaves.

she was going to find herself again.
feet in a field of dandelions, mind in the clouds.
she was going to steer her heart made of the sea.

this is the reeducation of the wild girl.

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ladies & gents,

reporting to you from the other side of the rainbow.

i’m no longer using social media, for the summer or – ever? ;)

please feel free to follow these posts for pages ripped from the journey, or email me!

“when did you get so serious?
when did you let ‘em take it all away?
can you remember who you were before the world told you who you should be?

where is the simple joy of just sitting? staring out into space, imagining. storming the castle! kickin’ rocks. climbin’ trees. gettin’ scraped up.. it’s all still there,

inside you. waiting.

once upon a time – there were other things!
once upon a time there was.. 
falling asleep on the floor
and daydreaming on car rides
and talking to the moon.

remember those parties when you weren’t tucked away in some room, all alone? you were making plays.. ballroom dancing.. throwing disco parties with flashlights! .. you don’t have to grow up.

we think we know everything.

in the “real world” there’s no place for imagining..

there are four walls now.

but i want you to try to remember.. there don’t have to be any walls

at all.” –excerpt from THE WILD PAPERS

* THE WILD PAPERS debut last saturday as an interactive theatre performance was BEAUTIFUL – a hit at the latimer house and for the historic house trust’s #museumanarchy initiative!

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ready for a gajillion photos?!

more info on THE WILD PAPERS project is here, and i’ll post about future performances and workshops.

**edit: speaking of.. the wild papers special ENCORE is JUNE 20, 6pm @ latimer house! :)

see also:

“In a single sentence there are whole universes. Audrey Dimola and her newest installment, Traversals, reminds us of that.”

“There is beauty in her transformation into a woman who cannot be ignored. The flame burns as her words (“moments—isn’t it always/ what I come back to?/ And—is it just as often/ implicit/ that we must/ leave them all/ behind?”) sting. One can imagine the pauses in her delivery, the answer in so simple a question.

If you look closely, you may find a mantra or two to soothe a weary day or cause a hidden anniversary to be less regretful. Audrey’s prose is akin to a late night red wine binge with a good friend. No judgment, and no excess sugar either. Traversals is sweet enough as it is, and can be read straight through or in 3 stop spurts. It is the mirror of a changing city and a changing soul, ambient and pure – a phoenix breaking free, and encouraging us all to do the same.”

“To be a poet is to be brave enough to tread trough the darkest forest of the subconscious. […] Occasionally a poet comes along with a rhythm in their soul that echoes that of an entire city, a blaring staccato that slices through cement like torrents, hugging and cracking the earth. Audrey’s words cut. Talk about a poet in the wild.”

* the gorgeous diana benigno wrote an equally gorgeous review of my latest book of poetry & prose, “TRAVERSALS,” and you can read it HERE. (thankyouthankyouthankyou)

if you want to snag some of the last copies of the first run, you can order it on paypal or see other options HERE.

and finally:

here’s what i’ve been doing. writing stories & sitting in trees..

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there was once a girl who lived in a tree. she knew there were many things going on around her but much preferred staying up in a tree. one day a robin landed on a branch as she was reclining among the leaves as she always did. ‘why do you not explore?’ the robin asked. ‘your conscious is your own set of wings.’ the wind blew in confirmation. ‘but it is not real wings,’ the girl replied. ‘i just want to stay up here and look around.’ ‘what about the gift of perspective?’ the wolf asked, slinking up, in the dirt around the strong dark trunk. ‘what i see down here is different from what you see up there. and same for the robin who can see everything from heights way, way up in the sky.’ ‘i still much like this perspective. it’s safer,’ the girl said, throwing her arms around a wide branch. ‘everything i need is here. the sound of the wind. the shine of the leaves. animals like you all around me. and a place to stay.’ ‘but remember..’ the robin said, tilting its head to the side, ‘you are unique. and you will never know how unique until you fully experience this world.’ ‘the tree is your home,’ the wolf added, ‘but why can’t everything else be too?’ the girl thought for a moment and tightened her grip on the tree. the robin sensed her apprehension and landed closer to her. ‘sometimes only in leaving something and returning to it can you fully understand how special it is,’ the robin said gently. the wolf smiled its fangy grin. ‘be like the forest. the wind. the leaves. the bark. the dirt. the sunshine,’ he said, looking up at her. ‘you might be surprised to find it’s all a part of you already, and everywhere you go..’ the robin chimed in: ‘it will be there.’ the girl thought for awhile about laying splayed among the branches and never wanting to leave. but she also wanted to be strong enough to know what else there was out there. she gave the tree a super tight squeeze and climbed down, smiling at the wolf and the robin. ‘thank you for being here,’ she said. ‘i’m ready to discover that the world is in me just as i am in the world..’ she took a pause, looking up at her beautiful tree. ‘and that you are never, ever far from the things you hold in your heart.’ ‘be brave,’ the tree seemed to say as her feet touched the grass. and she would.

it’s never too late to start again,

XO

a.


Into the wild wonderland…

Celebrated as “a wildfire in a world of fluorescent bulbs,” a “poetic force of nature,” and “inspiration incarnate,” Queens, New York City native AUDREY DIMOLA is a poet, performer, curator, messenger, local arts advocate, community organizer, and lifelong artist, as well as Director of Public Programs at Long Island City’s Socrates Sculpture Park. // Thanks so much for stopping by! You’ll find all my work on this website, past and present, as well as new blog posts. Poetry, prose, videos, events, photos, articles – it’s all here. // STAY WILD, STAY GRATEFUL!

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ABOUT
Pleased to meet you..!

POETRY & PERFORMANCE
Poetry & prose, live performance videos

PROJECTS
Compass Project, Nature of the Muse, THE WILD PAPERS, #poetsinthewildnyc & more

EVENTS
Full list of upcoming & past events

ARTICLES & MEDIA
Features, reviews, interviews, essays in print & online; blog posts; video interviews

CURATING
Original events I've curated like Nature of the Muse & the Queens Literary Town Hall

PRESS
Coverage of my work - print, blogs, TV!

CONTACT ME!
Info, mailing list, testimonials, specialties

MY BOOKS
My collections of poetry & prose

My Books

I have three poetry & prose collections for sale, proudly self-published. Like what you read? Support an indie!

Decisions We Make While We Dream (2012)

TRAVERSALS (2014)

WILDLIGHT (2018)

Compass Project Poetry Stickers

As of February 2012, I've been sticking my Compass Project poetry and prose stickers up around NYC & sending them around the world! Have you seen some? Want some? Find out more!