E.K. Daniels
Bio
Writer, watercolorist, and regular at the restaurant at the end of the universe. Twitter @inkladen
Stories (158/0)
A Tale of Two Clefs
Her name was Blaire. In true roman á clef fashion, her name is changed to protect the not so innocent. She was two years older than me. We met in high school band, and bonded over all things, Alan Rickman and our mutual love of British men that were far too old for us. We were an unlikely duo. Even our musical instruments of choice had different clefs. She played the trombone, and I played the flute. I was friends with mostly brass players. The woodwinds mostly smelled like cheap perfume and gossip. I switched to the oboe during orchestral season. It was a switch to say the least. I remember the band director shutting me in a pratice room with a tuba before even allowing me to attempt the double-reeded oboe.
By E.K. Daniels8 months ago in Chapters
Penning the Grayscale
We never forget our first love, do we? Most 'firsts' are clumsy and awkward. They're the beginning of a journey. In love, they're often heart-breaking. We learn their lessons—of love lost, perhaps unrequited, and of own capacity to adapt to change.
By E.K. Daniels8 months ago in Writers
Zen Mind, Beginner’s Mind: The Book That Saved Me From Myself
Life at 22 was a rollercoaster with no brakes. Despite appearances, I’ve always fancied myself a bit of a thrill-seeker, but even for me, things just got too chaotic. Penniless, working three jobs for peanuts, and putting myself through college was topped with the cherry of coping with the betrayal of my family. My stepfather pulled the rug from under me, draining my life savings and taking my car (all things I worked for). Turns out when you remove a narcissist’s supply and begin asserting your independence, they don’t like that very much.
By E.K. Daniels8 months ago in BookClub
Duchamp’s Fountain: A Critique
Duchamp's "Fountain" turns a urinal into "art," challenging taste and questioning the value of skill. The ready-made object mocks artistic effort, making the beholder question, "Why is this art?" It reeks of elitism to some, but it birthed the Conceptual art movement, shifting focus from the physical to intellectual .
By E.K. Daniels8 months ago in Critique
The Duct Taped Banana
Cattelan's 'Comedian' is what happens when Dadaism meets Home Depot and your local market. A taped banana parades as profound commentary, mocking both artist and patron. An emblem of excess, it encapsulates a culture fixated on novelty over substance. It sold for $120,000 but I think Warhol would've canned it.
By E.K. Daniels8 months ago in Critique
Fahrenheit 451: A Critique
An incendiary critique of censorship and suppression. Set in a future where books burn, it feels all too prescient when writing has become an act of resistance and politicians ban books for votes. Bradbury’s warning against sacrificing knowledge on society’s altar is a chilling reminder of the power of information.
By E.K. Daniels8 months ago in Critique
Social Media: A Critique
Social media, a double-edged sword, fosters superficial connections, validates narcissism, and erodes genuine human interaction in exchange for short-lived highs and dopamine thrills. Its addictive design exploits attention, fuels echo chambers, and undermines privacy. A breeding ground for misinformation and cyberbullying, it's time we reflect on its true societal cost.
By E.K. Daniels8 months ago in Critique
The Sublime Absurdity of Bad Poetry (And a Few Cringeworthy Gems)
An oft-forgotten and under-celebrated day, "Bad Poetry Day" is upon us. Every year on August 18, millions of people around the world ignore this day, but don't be like them! Join me on the wonderful ride through the world of bad poetry, and my own (intentional) overtly flowery, superfluously silly, and long-winded diatribe of the ancient craft of (bad) poetry.
By E.K. Daniels8 months ago in Humor