Danielle Vogel is a poet, lyric essayist, and interdisciplinary artist working at the intersections of ecology, somatics, and ceremony.
Her poetry collections include The Way a Line Hallucinates Its Own Linearity (Red Hen 2020), Edges & Fray (Wesleyan 2020), and Between Grammars (Noemi 2015).
Her work also appears in anthologies including, The Book: 101 Definitions, edited by Amaranth Borsuk (Anteism 2021), A Forest on Many Stems (Nightboat 2021), edited by Laynie Brown, and Counter-Desecration A Glossary for Writing Within the Anthropocene (Wesleyan 2018), edited by Linda Russo and Marthe Reed.
p o e t i c s
Danielle Vogel writes toward a more organic grammar. Always asking how can a book, as an extended field of a body, serve as a site of radical transformation, how can the fragment, the letter, the lyric essay serve as non-linear conduits for transmuting the body and its consciousness?
Her creative research practice, which includes the study of animal architectures, land restoration, the science of biophotons and epigenetics, and also encompasses aspects of her art-making, such as collaborating with wild clay, plants, waters and pigments, reflects her ongoing commitment toward intergenerational healing, bioregional literacy (learning from the languages of elements and ecosystems), reintegrating a reader with their environments, and allowing this ongoing and developing practice to directly inform and reshape her poetics across projects and books.
Vogel's current projects are particularly concerned with ecopoetics. They seek to weave experimental prose forms with ecological literacy, reparative poem-gardens, geomancy, and site-responsive poems, and are tentatively titled The Earth Archives and The Frequency of Flowers.
Because "a body loosens itself across an alphabet," because "an absent word unsettl[es] the collarbone’s concavity," because "the vowels layering, breathe," Danielle Vogel’s ravishing and profound work resides in one as a thrilling visceral experience. Never has a reading encounter felt so fully embodied—the vibration and motions and shapes of language inside, transforming the day, long after the book is closed.