spirituality – audrey di mola – folkloric futurism

‘go slowly, see miracles’ the art installation experience

Screen Shot 2016-05-19 at 3.24.20 AM

go slowly, see miracles opens fri 5/20/16 from 6-10pm in 43-01 21st street in long island city but will be on view 12-6pm on saturday 5/21 and sunday 5/22!

it’s a little after 2 in the morning and less than an hour ago i returned home from day 3 of my install for LIC arts open 6. sitting down at this blank page (computer screen?!) words just can’t seem to do it justice. carolina and richard from LICAO- thank you, thank you for this opportunity..

this is more than a project, an art installation, a room transformation.. it’s a commemoration. a milestone. this was one of those things- it emerged out of dreams, experiences, words, darkness. to think that- earlier this year, i was in a place where i couldn’t recognize myself, at all. the changes in my life completely displaced me- the decisions, the goodbyes, the wild adventures, the woods, the farms, the art, the risks, all certainty became uncertainty, grounded to a sudden halt. all unfamiliar, hollow, numb. i perceived the disassociation as a new norm.. but out of that darkness- came the beginnings of this. i’m a lifelong writer but also a lifelong artist. when words failed me- i worked with my hands. i worked with scratches and tears, collage, mixed media, the mysticism of found objects, ink and smears, fire. golden paint like byzantine halos. earthen material. the things i couldn’t say- i created. it was the only thing i could do, at that moment.

we often get stuck in our own spheres.. i am a poet- i use voice, i use words. that’s who i am. it’s scary and uncomfortable to own another role (in this case- installation artist), and we so often hesitate. paralyzed by judgment of self and imagined from others.. yet my longing to expand remained. poetry in three dimensions materialized while creating ‘art for the wild’ with my brilliant sister april- found poetry, tearing up books, collaging with images onto wood, onto painted glass bottles, inspiration stones. THE WILD PAPERS in collaboration with some beautiful friends was my first site-specific experience in the theatrical/performative realm- i carry it with me everyday. but i have wanted to create a world of my own since before the conception of that show.. a space i could transform. fairy lights. jungle greenery. hideaways. wonderland.

the roots of this project are deep- but somehow deepest at the moments when i felt my own nearly ripped out from under me. the fact that i am here, in realtime- three days into the installation of that world i dreamed of, the world i laid the foundations of in one of the deepest darknesses i have ever experienced.. the vision is becoming real. the vision is challenging, humbling, emotional, electric, frustrating, EXCITING. BEAUTIFUL. WILD. but it is all mine. my ladder climbs. my sharpie words. my mirror shards. my relics. my tangles. what will you think when you see it? what will you feel? what will the reception be..?

for me, this is not just an installation. it’s the identity i swore i’d lost. the legend i swore i’d lost at the beginning of 2016. my heart, my memories, my story- in three dimensions. in a space. in a world. i feel like i’ve created neverland and now i can go home again.. yet it takes creating something OUTWARDLY to realize that it has always existed INWARDLY.. creation is an incredible thing.

over and over.. you recreate from the ashes. you honor where you’ve been. ’go slowly, see miracles’ is my chance to do that. to prove to myself that i can survive. that i have survived. and i can trust these hands, this head, this heart- to carry me into what will soon be my 30th year on earth.

i choose life. i choose immortality. i choose wildness. gratitude. grace. a prayer of thanks to THE WONDER and the beauty of losing and finding and losing and finding it again.

thank you for being a part of my story.. come see it in front of your eyes this friday, 6pm at the opening for the 43-01 21st st building, filled with incredible art of myriad mediums and 2 other immersive installations.

thank you// mama always. my family. amazing april. scott weiland. nahko bear. ‘to the wonder.’ marcus & zuko. daddy. kristine. j. syd. sana. joan. nick. everyone who finds my writing in the street. the friends who looked for me. the words that saved me. riley, isabella, cristiano, layla. the woods. the ocean. pluf. chris mccandless. jen & TYR. my patron saint peter pan. my guardian angel nana. my TRIBE. LICAO. and the darkness that almost beat me.. for showing me how bright i can be.

[[SO MUCH MORE is going on in LICAO 2016, check out the booklet for all event & exhibition listings! festival runs may 18-22

scenes from the journey thus far… (click on the videos to play them!)

Screen Shot 2016-05-19 at 3.03.07 AM

Screen Shot 2016-05-19 at 3.24.30 AM

Screen Shot 2016-05-19 at 3.23.33 AM

Screen Shot 2016-05-19 at 3.24.03 AM

Screen Shot 2016-05-19 at 3.01.49 AM

Screen Shot 2016-05-19 at 3.01.16 AM

Screen Shot 2016-05-19 at 3.01.04 AM

reflections from tonight:

{insert really loud peter pan crow here}

adhesive.

IMG_20160209_125135

i am i am i said i’m not myself but i’m not dead & i’m not for sale
hold me closer closer let me go let me be just let me be -STP.

“the pull is visceral. it may also be an act of self-loathing or anger against home or society or even the human condition in which the promise of death shadows us from those first fresh moments of birth.” -scott weiland, ‘not dead & not for sale.’

there comes a time when the pain is too great and you have to make things.

physically- knot them, paint them, scratch them, burn them. scavenge in the street, rip from pages, make a mess. as much of a mess you feel like you are- to create- that.

because- for a person for whom words are everything- sometimes they mean nothing.

and out of this disillusion, disappointment, hurt- something else is born. something in the realm of craft and mystic- synthetic. organic. trash. treasure. dirty hands to remind you you’re still alive and there is still a way to express the infinite bewilderment of that fact.

the only way to truly rail against death is to disappear for awhile- and create something.

//ajd 2.10.16

IMG_20160213_113128

IMG_20160212_221807

IMG_20160213_112541

IMG_20160213_112618 IMG_20160212_221729

IMG_20160213_112714

IMG_20160212_234027 (1)

IMG_20160213_113741

IMG_20160213_112428

“i embrace the day at a time mindset. for me, there’s no other way to live. i’ve got to stay present. i am optimistic. i have to learn to see the beauty in the mundane. i believe this is a key to my spiritual well-being. i have to change my perception and see god’s beauty in everything.”

“the human heart filled with sorrows and gold.”

-scott weiland, ‘not dead & not for sale.’

**works pictured:

. still frame from movement to ‘interstate love song’

. still – collage

. i only have one antler (assemblage to the old life); what are bones for anyway (the stake, & association- ‘dying isn’t the hard part’) [two pieces]

. incomplete initiation [detail]

. breathing is the hardest – collage

. i only have one antler (assemblage to the old life) [detail]

. breathing is the hardest – collage [detail]

. still frame from movement to ‘interstate love song’

. incomplete initiation

. notes from the bottom (this is a cry for help)

**notes to self:

an installation is coming

do everything in the glow of candles and christmas lights

art is a permanent solution to a temporary problem

for the times it arrives like a thunderbolt.

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.

TRAVERSALS is out NOW

The day is finally here..

My second collection of poetry & prose, TRAVERSALS, meets the world.

CLICK HERE to order a signed & dedicated copy directly from me, securely via PayPal (please note you do not need to have a PayPal account).

If you would rather not use PayPal, you can buy an UNSIGNED copy directly from Amazon HERE. OR if you’re in the Astoria, Queens area, you can pick one up from the Astoria Bookshop!

174 pages of original poetry & prose!

if you can’t move, let the breath move..
if you can’t be the ship, be the oar.
if you can’t be the oar, be the compass.
if you can’t be the compass, be the slightest stirring
in the voyager’s heart that told him –
i will not waste this day like all the others.
if you can’t be the voyager, be the faintest flickering
of the arrow magnetized towards whatever is greater –
whatever you can see in that last moment,
with your eyes widened and the water in your lungs –
that suddenly makes you forget how to drown…

“the backbone of this book is a celebration of the knowing + the unknowing in one life + heart. of memories + freedom. a call to those warriors we meet on the paths we take who bring us light. that stranger who becomes a lover who becomes a ghost. the one who leaves an imprint in our desert for the rest of time like the eroding of rock turned river. the ghosts of our past, of ourselves, of promises long broken. and what we choose to do with these ghosts…” -nick neon, film + music video director, screenwriter & creative director @ rollthedicepictures.com

“Audrey Dimola uses words to harness light, and this collection of poetry and prose brings that light to dark places and broken spaces. With her native New York feet, wildchild spirit, and poetic fingertips, the author selflessly cuts open her own scars to reveal that beauty can emerge from pain. Using her writing gift and keen understanding of the human condition, she howls at the light of the moon so that the reader does not drown in darkness. The beauty of the moonlight remains in the reader’s heart and mind long after reading the words.” -maria karaiskos, nyc teacher

From the author: A series of events in my life that began in that Fall of 2011 spurred it on. It was unavoidable. I lost my beautiful firecracker of a Nana and then my longest relationship, left my solid job, and then met the explosive muse who struck the arc of TRAVERSALS. And it went on after that – dazzling highs and startling lows, wildness and bewilderment, adventures with beautiful souls I will never forget. That’s what TRAVERSALS chronicles, what gets left behind and how we honor what we have experienced – the people we’ve loved, lost, suffered with, and let go; the brave hearts in the trenches beside us; the ones that breathe new life into us; the ghosts we are haunted by and the ghosts we become in the lives of others.. At the end of the day TRAVERSALS is really about the resiliency of the human heart – trusting the process, trusting the journey when it comes to life and art.

And if you’re in the NYC area, please join me for the BOOK LAUNCH & PERFORMANCE PARTY at the brand new Q.E.D. venue in Astoria, Queens!

Thursday, November 13th
7:30-9:30pm
at the brand new Q.E.D.: A Place to Show & Tell venue
in Astoria, Queens!
(27-16 23rd Avenue, Astoria-Ditmars Blvd N/Q stop)

Join Queens-born poet/performer/firecracker Audrey Dimola as she celebrates the release of her second collection of poetry & prose, TRAVERSALS. Known for anything but perpetuating the traditional reading format, you can count on an interdisciplinary love-fest, semi-inappropriate jokes, and tales of the triumph of the human spirit.

Talented friends of the poetic, musical, and dancey variety will be on hand to perform and debut special collaborations (and books will be for sale, of course!): Poet/singer Valerie G. Keane, dancer/choreographer Kymberly Nolden, musician/actor/dancer Jacob Horstmeier (with violinist/singer Margaret-Ellen Jeffreys!), poet/musician Marc Montfleury & playwright/musician Tyler Rivenbark combine powers with Audrey herself for an evening both fun and heartfelt.

RSVP at the FACEBOOK INVITE!

Thank you ALL endlessly for your love, light & support.. The journey begins again. XXOO