Welcome to the Official Blogspot for Leigh Ann DiDomenico, MA aka ANNHGIEL!!

Welcome to the Official Blogspot for Leigh Ann DiDomenico, MA aka ANNHGIEL!!
"The Angel with the Crooked Halo"

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Leigh Ann is multi-talented creative freelance professional. She specializes in performance poetry, hosting, modeling, acting, and mixed media visual art. Leigh Ann is a COMMERCIAL, BEAUTY, and PETITE FASHION MODEL and ACTRESS and is available for PAID PRINT, TV, and FILM shoots. Will gladly TRAVEL (expenses paid) for work! Leigh Ann is also a nationally ranked SLAM POET, placing 3rd in the nation and 2nd in the west coast region, and is available to FEATURE at theatres, slams, open mics, and on the radio. She is also a published AUTHOR and an ARTIST who creates and sells unique one-of-a-kind furniture and home decor. Leigh Ann's artwork, ANNHGIEL DESIGNS, can be purchased at 4th Ave by the Tracks in Kalispell, MT, as well as custom ordered. Finally, Leigh Ann has her MASTERS DEGREE in Psychology and is an experienced COUNSELOR, TUTOR, and YOUTH MENTOR.

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Please feel free to for booking!! Thank you!!

Tuesday, December 25, 2012

Merry Christmas!!







Noah Clayton Christmas Stock Photography

Tuesday, August 14, 2012

Christina Hickey Styling, JMK Photography

"It is only when we truly know and understand that we have a limited time on Earth and that we have no way of knowing when our time is up that we will begin to live each day to the fullest, as if it were the only one we had." - Elisabeth Kubler-Ross


"I don’t want to get to the end of my life and find that I lived just the length of it. I want to have lived the width of it as well." - Diane Ackerman

Saturday, June 30, 2012

Annhgiel Designs is OFFICIAL!!


"Work is love made visible.  And if you cannot work with love but only with distaste, it is better that you should leave your work and sit at the gate of the temple and take alms of those who work with joy."  -Kahlil Gibran


"Annhgiel Designs" Mini-Store @ 4th Avenue by the Tracks, Kalispell, MT


Pair of Antique Brass Lamps: $54/each SOLD, Handpainted Cherry and Grape Salt and Pepper Shakers: $6/each SOLD OUT, 
"Beauty" Votive Candle Holder: $24


8x10 Barnwood Moose Mirror: $45


8x10 Barnwood Heart Mirror: $45



Handmade Mosaic Rose Table: $74


"Believe" Barnwood Decor: $22 SOLD 


Antique Six-Pane Window Repurposed Mirror Picture Frame: $125 SOLD 

Friday, March 9, 2012

Great Selection of Stock Video from Uberstock I did last summer!!



For more of my Uberstock Video Clips: CLICK HERE and scroll down to the gallery called "Montana"

Tuesday, February 14, 2012

BuffaloHeart Apparel Catalog Shoot: Designer, Lindsey Becker, Noah Clayton Photography, Christina Hickey Styling


"We live not according to reason, but according to fashion." -Seneca


"Fashion is as profound and critical a part of the social life of man as sex, and is made up of the same ambivalent mixture of irresistible urges and inevitable taboos." -Rene Konig


"I dress for the image.  Not for myself, not for the public, not for fashion, not for men." -Marlene Dietrich


"Fashion is architecture: it is a matter of proportions." -Coco Chanel


"Fashion is so close in revealing a person's inner feelings and everybody seems to hate to lay claim to vanity, so people tend to push it away.  It's really too close to the quick of the soul." -Stella Blum


"To let the spiritual, unbidden, and unconscious grow up through the common - this is my symphony." -William Ellery Channing


"Fashion is only the attempt to realize art in living forms and social intercourse." - Sir Francis Bacon


"Beauty of style and harmony and grace and good rhythm depend on simplicity." -Plato

Thursday, January 5, 2012

New Poem: The Mermaid


       They found her on the northern coast of Japan after the tsunami.  She was a tiny slumped flower clinging to the edge of a rooftop in a strange river of floating cars and debris.  They brought her to the Monterey Bay Aquarium in a 3ft x 6ft tank in the back of a trailer.  Her fishtail curled toward her tangled black locks like a bandage.  It was weeks before the doctors were confident to release her for the exhibit.  But she was exquisite. 
       Her eyes were deep green and tender and she had spongy ocean lips.  Her onyx black hair floated in a magnetic dance swirling around her perfect cantaloupe breasts, savory crescent moon hips, and a moss-colored tail curled in a constant pendulum sway.  She moved in graceful elegance, every gesture a floating dance. 
       They announced her to the world.  The Mermaid!  Come one, come all! 
       She was the porcelain doll they placed on their shelf.  Swarms of humans came to gape starving through the looking glass, longing to hook their fingers around her delicate wrists and tidal siren bottom like a child’s wriggling salamander prize.  But, as they lusted for her, she thirsted for the ocean: the taste of fresh algae, the tickle of a seahorse’s kiss, the beautiful symphony of electric eel lightning storms, the dance of sun rays reflected through water, and the majesty of a sea turtle landing on a cavern floor.  She only wanted one more night lying next to her husband in their soft seaweed bed or one more day chasing bubbles to the surface with her sisters. 
       Her sway became mechanical like a grandmother clock, her gaze frozen like a quartz crystal cracked down its center.  She sought refuge from the stinging stares of voyeurs in the dim shadowed corner of the tank.  She began to swim in circles hiding behind its veil.  The congregation roared, banged on the glass, “How dare you keep yourself from us!”  She could feel her smooth black locks turn to jellyfish tentacles under their ravenous stares.  She was Medusa, pining for Poseidon as their jealous salted curse turned her perfect beauty monstrous.   
       She refused to eat and it was not long before she was found floating face down on the surface of her tank.  They quickly preserved her in a marinade of hardened plastic, carefully leaned to one side, one tiny arm bent toward her perfect face, the other resting over her waist, delicate fingertips grazing her navel, and her fishtail curled gracefully into the air, pointing toward the stone expression in her empty emerald eyes. 
       Now it’s an anthill funeral procession of gawking passersby and one mannequin mermaid, lying ceremonious in a trumpeting glass casket in a travelling museum exhibit announcing her to the world.  The Mermaid! Come one, come all!!