audrey dimola[art for the wild]

Posts Tagged ‘truth

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the terrifying thing about choosing your own context for mental illness is that you often end up hurting/scaring the people closest to you, and hurting/scaring yourself.

it is not like an outwardly manifested affliction in that- no one would say to you, just stop having cancer. get up from your wheelchair. get your vision back. look how much everyone loves you- stop dying.

no one makes you feel like- you are doing it on purpose. you are willing it. you are purposely isolating, not picking up the phone, disappearing, not going to work. no one makes you feel like what is happening to you is wrong. like it’s your responsibility for failing everyone you love, for failing yourself.

what IS the same, though- is how people react upon choosing an alternative path to healing. in a similar way you would in choosing a raw food diet instead of chemotherapy. a visit to a shaman instead of a hospital. time communing with yourself, your spirits and guides, and your rituals- instead of a trained professional. this is the hurt that everyone who chooses a different way feels- that what they are doing is dangerous. that no one trusts them with their own healing. that maybe they should not put so much trust in themselves.

mental illness is particular in this fashion. and once you choose not to follow the paradigm given to you- that you are broken and need to be fixed, that you have a chemical imbalance that endangers your life- the road you proceed to traverse has no map.

and in making the map for yourself, sometimes, like last night, you will find yourself in willing seclusion. hiding like a child, getting as small as you possibly can in the darkness, while three of the most important people in your life stand on your doorstep, on three separate occasions- ringing your bell, scratching your window, calling to you. txting and calling, communicating to each other, in increasing alarm.

sometimes no disappearance is enough disappearance, for the hurt you feel. the hurt that washes over you, primordial and unending. you are told you are loved. you are told you have a place to go. you are told you can have anything you want. threatened, even, by this immediateness, franticness, of affection- you get even smaller. but the space is opened up, somehow- in which to trust.

how do i know which impulses to listen to? sometimes the path leads you away but it is only so you can trust enough to find your own answers. you know the path is true if it leads you back to your community, to the people you love.

despite how much you anger them. hurt them. how much you don’t make rational sense- it is not isolation indefinite. it is isolation to hear the answers- so to heal. so to return.

today i understood why i am creating my next show, PROVENANCE.

to show how this instability is the key in the lock to the power of my origin story. to show what it looks like, in actuality, to choose to create your own map. to hurt yourself, hurt the people you love. to bear the guilt and shame inherent in your affliction. to want to answer, open up, speak, accept an embrace, receive help- but simultaneously be completely unable to.

to dance at the edges of death, creation, eternal life. to find safety in the perceived danger. growth and fecundity in the darkness. so to understand- your holy wild self. so to ascribe sacred meaning to- your finite moments on earth.

i look forward to continuing this journey.
and sharing with you, in three dimensions, what i’ve learned.

XO

a.

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HOW TO BUY:

WILDLIGHT is available for purchase directly from the author via PayPal, for $18.00.

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Please note you do not need to have a PayPal account- simply choose “Pay with Debit or Credit Card” to check out as a Guest.

If you would like to use another payment method- feel free! You can send $18 via Venmo to audrey.dimola@gmail.com, or contact me for other options.

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the fact that this book exists means that there is triumph of the holy wild spirit over heartache, darkness, ruin, illness and dis-ease, lack of self-worth, addiction, depression, sorrow, death.

i cannot describe how proud i am of this piece of my heart, blood, and bones.

3 years, 258 pages.

i proudly present my third book of poetry and prose, WILDLIGHT.

available for you. NOW.

///

WILDLIGHT: POETRY & PROSE FROM INSIDE THE FIRE

MARCH 20, 2018 – SPRING EQUINOX

[MORE INFO ABOUT THE BOOK]

three years of blood, sweat, fire, heart, and LIVING have gone into this collection, plunging into the wildernesses of love, spirituality, addiction, sex, shamanism, mental health struggles, self-love, and rebirth.

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“to all those
who reclaim their
spirits from darkness-
who resolve to protect
the body as an altar,
and keep the fire safe-
know there is an energy of
resilience that unites us all.
we may have to fight everyday-
but we never fight alone.

this is a book about reclamation.

about staying close to the fire. trusting in your wildlight.

it is a book about struggles with honesty, with identity. about all-consuming loves- passion, destruction, regeneration. about leaving and returning. about lack of self-love and self-worth. about mental illness and addictions. about the indomitable power of the human spirit. about reasons to live. about what happens when you break away from the life you thought you wanted- to walk into the wild. to be taught in ways only the universe can truly teach you- with blood, with sweat. with grief, and wonder. with fire. with heart.

it is a book about trying and trying and trying again…”

crack the spine of this book and the author will know it. this is an alchemical document- rubbed with earth, singed with flame. found curled inside the inmost core of an animal, fanged and feathered. each word a bone picked from an endless desert, blessed with tears and triumph from the road. “WILDLIGHT” was written from 2015 to 2017 by a shamanic poet and journeywoman who is most often likened to wildfire or supernova- this third collection of poetry and prose an act of sacred invocation that will keep howling at you even when its pages are closed.

THE POET IS UNAFRAID TO BECOME FULL WILDERNESS.

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NYC PERFORMANCE & RELEASE PARTY:

March 24, 2018 3-5pm at Q.E.D.: A Place to Show & Tell in Astoria [Facebook]

more upcoming SHOWS

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READ SELECT PIECES FROM “WILDLIGHT”:
+ lazarus was a house on fire (WOMAN)
+ reliquary: the body
+ blue sky
+ peter (i want to be real)
+ studies in reaching
+ somewhere else
+ two wolves

THE JOURNEY ON INSTAGRAM: #wildlightbyajd

VIDEO FROM THE DAY I RELEASED THE BOOK:

XO with ecstatic love and FIREFIREFIRE,

a.

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touch my mouth with your hands
touch my mouth with your hands
oh i want to understand
the meaning of your embrace
i know now i have to face, the temptations of my past
please don’t let me disgrace
where my devotion lays
now that i know the truth, now that it’s no excuse
keeping me from your love, what was i thinking of?
holding me from your love, what was i thinking of?

thank you lauryn. you are brilliant.

///

my words. #fromtoday.

sister fire spoke to me
she said put the antler back around your neck
know that there is a purpose in all you do
you get lost to get found you get lost to get found, girl
to show you yourself over and over that you can.
that you can.
sitting here with flickering flames in cups
salt lamp emanating radiance my hands
to your mouth put your hands to my mouth
let me remember how to pray
let me honor my own radiance
let me remember how to pray
there is darkness darkness only dark
down well-worn paths in my cognitive loops
i say pull the axe from the thornbush righteous one
i say cut i say cut a new way
you were not meant to die in darkness, my love
you were not meant to die right here
i know you want to lay until the vines steal your breath
take you back to where you came from heal the heart
returned to earth but i say i say my child
you must believe that the righteousness of the warrior
is inside your very being
i say go on you don’t need your eyes your hands
you do not need your feet or legs
you need the whole body burning spirit
led by your heart
my girl i say pick up the axe my love
and cut that new way
cut that new new new way
do not be disillusioned, heartbroken from
finding your way back here
she sings he’s just like water
she’s just like water
you are her she is him
sanctified these candle flames
in cups this salt rock glow on my lips
bid me to speak my love
let me remember how to live
stuck in the vines my girl
curled in the vines my girl
you have to get up
you have to get up
not wait for the light
cut a hole to the light
not wait for the light
cut a hole to the light
come on.
come on and on and on
crumpling days of protection
solar plexus you forget your
intention to grab your
bunches of feathers
jump that cliff and
commit to soar
the vines are growing around you, girl
the vines are stealing your breath, girl
what will you do?
what will you do?
do not be disillusioned by ending up here again
the candle flames in cups the salt rock lamp
we always heal in spirals
it’s the only way to find our way back
we always heal in spirals
it’s the only way to find our way back
do not be angry at your constitution
at your weakness at your ache
another man almost stole the life of you
but the bone in your backbone is back
not stiff but fluid not braced for impact but
impactful, my love
the only thing you can collapse into
is gentleness
is gentleness
is love
touch my mouth with your hands
my mother father goddess
touch my mouth with your hands
let me speak these words i
fought my way here to say
i will not die buried in the vines
i will not die buried in the vines
i will cut my own way.
someone once said
there is a way to die a
spiritual death
there is a way to
remember your lips
pressed
to the holiness
of a creator that
loves you
that you can finally
feel
because you finally
love yourself back
take yourself back
my girl my heart
be gentle if it seems like
it’s perpetually
on the mend
give it some time
you always fighting fires
making fires
spreading fires
keep the warmth
remember that the
next fire your spirit wants to feel is
the sun on your skin
on the other side of this
tunnel of black dark
my love
we can only heal in spirals
it’s the only way we can
find our way back.
i can only heal in spirals
it’s the only way i was able to
find my way back.

///

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“see fantasy is what people want, but reality is what they need.. and i just retired from the fantasy part.”

///

“at that point, i had to do some dying.”

“artists do fall apart,” a record executive says. “the most commonly held falsity in the game is that they have it all together. they fall apart. […] they all have a moment where you go, ‘are they really all there?’ and i think lauryn chose to expose that to the world.”

bless up, queen.

bless up, brothers & sisters.

XO

a.

[[shows + events // what’s coming up]]

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i speak for the addicted
i speak for the mentally ill
i speak for those who need the woods to survive
i speak for the little girl who forgets she is a wildwoman
i speak for the lost boys and lost girls
i speak for those writing poems into a voice recorder while they ride their bike
i speak for those who won’t smile because they feel guilty
i speak for those who take responsibility for everything
i speak for the savage heart and the sacred life, the sacred breath
i speak for the roots who are constantly doing their work even though you can’t see them
i speak for the trees who are constantly purifying even if you don’t thank them
i speak for the fire on my altar who had to burn things to show them to me
i speak for the birds
i speak for nature who just states facts
i speak for all those who ride their bikes without holding onto the handlebars because it makes them remember there was a time when they knew how to be free
i speak for remembering to be free
i speak for the initiation, for the woman who was initiated, for the initiated woman
i speak for all those who are ashamed of what they’ve been through
i speak for all those who are afraid to be crazy
i speak for all those who take responsibility for themselves, who remember it is we and only we who can write our own legend
i speak for the cracking open and the sewing up with golden thread, healed
i speak for the alchemists
i speak for the wild ones
i speak for the fools
i speak for the messengers
i am the messenger
i speak for the cards in the tarot deck
i speak for the constellations
i speak for free will
i speak for the sins of the father and of the mother and how those sins are not ours
i speak for trying to take care of everyone else and never taking care of yourself
i speak for long bike rides in the cold because you know it will bring you closer to the tribe
i speak for the tribe
i speak of the tribe
i speak with the tribe
i stand by the tribe
i speak for going slower instead of faster

i speak for writing a poem on your bike and almost crashing into construction
i speak for reconstruction
i speak for reconfiguration
i speak for readjusting- to go forth, healed
i speak for the stolen generation
i speak for our shared history
i speak for the mother goddess
i speak for the divine feminine with the divine feminine as the divine feminine
i speak for finding a way back home
i speak for light, for legacy, for justice for myself
i speak for feathers on the ground
i speak for shamanism
i speak for poets
i speak for healing
i speak for trauma
i speak for forgiveness
i speak for recognition
i speak for sight
i speak for self worth- not because, or when, or if
i speak not of conditions
i speak of pain
i speak of grieving
i speak for grieving
i speak for duration
i speak for patience
i speak for balancing your elements, child
not just fire, not just wind- but earth. but water
i speak for power, strategy, and protection- of identifying your body through your body, your own body, your self
i speak for the metaphysical orgasm
i speak for the body but only because i listened when she talks i listen when she talks i listen when she talks and i hear her- now
i speak for my beautiful brain and its shadows- and its light
i speak for the altar in my heart- sacred blood that keeps it pumping
i speak for the scars
i speak for my river and my mountain and my rebirth and my reclamation
i speak for my goddess, my scientist, my wise woman, my self
i speak for all the children who think they don’t have a voice
i speak for all the children forced to keep their family’s secrets
i speak for all the adults forced to keep their family’s secrets
i speak for all the adults forced to keep their own secrets, in shame
i speak for the anesthetization of the body
i speak for the shaking
i speak for the wakening up
i speak for the howling out windows
i speak for the graffiti on the roof
i speak for the flapping of wings
i speak for the falling on your knees, praying into the earth
i speak for the cycle of life/death/life
i speak for the codependent
i speak for those that just want to be happy
i speak for those that just want to be loved
i speak for all those who think they’re not good enough for any of it
i speak for the man perched on the triboro bridge that night
i speak for my self, wailing in the night when you went missing
i speak for the sadness, for the depressed, the anxious, the manic, the bipolar, the suicidal urge- and the will that keeps us here
i speak for the hunger in my body, the restlessness in my soul that reminds me constantly there is a deeper nourishment that i must tap into- a nourishment beyond accolades, sustenance, sex, adoration
it is wild and it is free and it is whole and it comes out of me when i sing, when i let my rattle move, when i give my body to dancing, when i give my body-
safety
beauty
tribe
protection
Love with a capital L
i speak as the fierce prayer that is my life
i speak as the warrior
i speak as the gentleness
i speak as the transfiguration
i speak as the roots and the bearing fruit
i speak for the dead and for the living, and the dead who are alive, and the alive who are dead
i speak for the words on walls
i speak for the crown in the heart
i speak for the silence
i speak for the blue sky
i speak for the infinite abundance
i speak with the breath that creates the living word
i speak now and for every other day i am granted to be here
i speak for the plants that crack through the sidewalk
i speak the medicine
i am the medicine
i am the heart on fire flying eagle spirit
i am the fact that even as this prayer poem ends, it will reverberate-
create your echoes- brothers, sisters
create your echoes everywhere you walk-
find harmony
wildness
and acceptance
and bravery
and goodness
and truth
AHO.
– transcribed exactly as recorded into my phone while riding my bike, astoria to bed stuy, 11.12.17

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‘i liked what you said about rewriting your legacy.’
‘you got to. because if you don’t, someone else will.’

XO

a.

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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!)

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reflections from tonight:

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{insert really loud peter pan crow here}

XO

a.

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.

mashups

tis the season for thanks and i’m grateful for new opportunities to STRETCHHH those creative muscles, especially as the fall & winter set in. don’t let your heart go cold! the photo above is from the first ever MASHUPS performance (an interdisciplinary experiment of artists collaborating on the spot!) at queens council on the arts which was a night i will NEVER forget- MASSIVE love to my collaborators & the audience we vibed with <3

nature of the muse

TONIGHT! 11/12 7:30-9:30pm
NATURE OF THE MUSE reading & live writing show
by the FIRE in the carriage house at LIC Bar @ 45-58 vernon blvd in LIC
[facebook invite] *flyer by gianna ligammari!
feat: writers yi wu, tippy rex, sydney hartlove nichols, timothy bell & steven licardi with special musical guests janna pelle & luca difabio!
called ‘one of the most exciting literary events in the city’ by BORO mag, 5 writers will share their previously written work and then write LIVE from random prompts written by YOU, the audience! plus fantastic musical guests. ignite your MUSE with us!

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NEXT WEEK! 11/18 8:30-10:30pm
THE RISE OF NEON REBEL/ a gathering of creatives
Q.E.D. a place to show & tell @ 27-16 23rd ave in astoria
[facebook invite]
my BFF & fellow rebel artist nick neon is returning from korea after 7 years and we’re formally kicking off our NEON REBEL collective of wild hearts making their own luck, supporting each other, and changing the world with their work and art. BE A PART OF THIS!! we’ll be partying at Q.E.D., sharing, inspiring, discussing, presenting, plotting future projects, and enjoying special guest speakers: sam from good.clean.fun, kenny from road to greatness, valerie from naked in alaska & monica from museum of impact PLUS music from spells & curses and other shenanigans!

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if you are constantly dreaming of ‘somewhere else’ – FIND that somewhere else. i promise it’s out there. because when you take steps in the direction of those things or places that bring you joy, you realize it was never about locating that somewhere else on a map. it was about FINDING YOURSELF and thus unlocking one of the most precious gifts of all- being at home everywhere. with all people, all things. wandering, far and wide- it doesn’t matter. you realize you’re not running away from anything, like they said you were. you are endlessly seeking because you are seeking yourself endlessly and perfectly reflected in all things. yes, this is the journey that never stops. why should it? you find yourself- your true self- over and over again, in doing the things you really love. in daring yourself, shattering the ego, doing the work, taking the chances, pushing the edges. REALITY IS MALLEABLE, PEOPLE. and the more you purely push and investigate your mystery, the more you’ll see the rules bend until you forget what rules were in the first place…

‘ordinary life does not interest me’ ..

are you coming with? ;)

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!