For someone who traveled the world as an adventurous musician, Ann Everton always appreciated being back home. She and her husband Brian Daniloski made the most of life on the road as darsombra, the self-described trans-apocalyptic galaxy rock band. While touring, Ann enjoyed finding hot springs, sharing coordinates for pop-up generator shows, and deepening connections in darsombra’s well-established musical circuits. But when she was back in Baltimore, Ann was immersed in editing videos by the fireside, working on Star Trek fanfiction, tumbling bismuth crystals, teaching weekly yoga classes, running her business as a barber, and walking in Leakin Park in search of wood ducks and cryptids. The world was her oyster and Baltimore was her treasured pearl.
Ann was born in Baltimore on November 13th, 1981, into a family that was full of art. She began creating at an early age and never stopped. After attending Bryn Mawr School, she went on to Barnard College, and additionally studied at Columbia University, Vassar College, and Goldsmiths College University of London. She returned to Baltimore after graduating, and trained as a barber while developing as a working artist, with residencies and exhibitions in Japan, Egypt, and Hungary. Besides working on graffiti art, Ann thoroughly enjoyed making videos. In one her video series called “Life Lessons with Bill Murray”, she recreated a variety of movie scenes, from Ghostbusters to Groundhog Day. Her videos are uploaded to her Youtube channel and are also available on DVD at the Enoch Pratt Central Library.
In 2009, Ann met Brian at a yoga class. They bought a house near Leakin Park which is a work of art in itself, with beautiful gardens she planted and cared for, a gigantic mural of a whale and accompanying light show on the side, and endless special touches and details which made it a perfect place for them to live, work, and entertain. In time, she joined Brian’s musical project darsombra, first contributing projected visuals, then additionally playing synthesizer and singing. For the last 10 years of her life, this combined music and visual project took her all over the world, from dive bars in small towns in the US, to festivals attended by thousands in Europe, to tours of Indonesia, and remote parts of Canada.
Ann broadcasted her love for Baltimore and beyond through videos and live performances, so when darsombra’s touring routine was impacted by the pandemic, she adapted by creating an online variety show called darsombra TV. The band shared their first episode during Mushroom City Art Festival’s virtual event in 2020. The festival usually took place in Leakin Park and featured darsombra as a regular musical act. In the beginning of the video, Ann and Brian point out the different spots in the park where they played in previous years. In 2018 they took over a trail for a memorable twilight show, casting projections through a tunnel of curving trees. In 2019, they played inside a stoney circle by the nature center.
The first episode of darsombra TV also includes scenes from Ann and Brian’s garden, which was full of sunflowers, squash, ground cherries, and a huge fig tree nicknamed Bullwinkle. There’s also a brief interlude at Maryland’s only oceanfront park, Assateague Island, a place that Ann visited often as a child while catching up with family on the Eastern Shore. She and Brian frequently camped on Assateague and shot the music video for their song “Shelter in Place” on the beach. They also included the sound of Assateague’s waves at the end of their song “Underworld”.
That first episode of darsombra TV climaxed with an extended performance in Leakin Park. While on a walk in the park in 2020, they found a working outlet in Winans Meadow and livestreamed their first public show in months. A few years later, darsombra filmed their music video for “Giblet Lore” in the same spot. Ann rallied up a bunch of friends to dress up in medieval costumes for the occasion. That side of the park also holds significance for another reason; In 2013, Ann and Brian spontaneously got married on a ridge overlooking the meadow while hiking with friends.
Eventually, the band began touring again, and Ann documented their travels with more darsombra TV. The next episode highlights their generator shows at The Badlands in South Dakota and Snively Hot Springs in Oregon. While attempting to explore Snively Hot Springs on a previous tour, they ran into some cowboys who warned them that they were “on the edge of some desolate shit.” Afraid of getting a flat in an isolated area, they turned around and planned to come back another time with heavy duty tires.
In 2019, they returned to Snively Hot Springs and spent all day making music underneath a massive rockface. At night, their projections showed up on the landscape. Despite the lack of a live audience, they found it to be incredibly exhilarating and liberating. Later on in the episode, Ann reflects on their pop-up performance at the Badlands. “It felt like such a gift for the environment, for ourselves, for the audience, for the stars, for the rising moon,” she says. “Performance can happen anywhere,” Ann continues in the video. “We love sharing a performance with a human audience, an insect audience, an alien audience, or just each other. When the heart is there, you can really put art anywhere.”
On top of all their musical offerings, Ann and Brian co-taught accessible yoga in public spaces like the garden at the Druid Hill farmer’s market and Cahill Rec Center. In 2020, they began livestreaming yoga classes and archived their classes on their youtube channel, Refuge Yoga Baltimore. During their last video upload, Ann read some passages from B.K.S., Iyengar’s book Light on Yoga, sharing that “the human body is a miniature universe unto itself.”
Through music, art, and yoga, Ann cultivated her own miniature universe and welcomed others to revel at its wonders. As a curious observer, she took in the world with all of her senses and shared her discoveries with joy and humor. With a grounding presence, she often looked up to the cosmos for endless inspiration. Brian shared that she liked playing outside because it might make it easier for aliens to hear their music, and she was working on a video to project inside of a planetarium dome.
While staying at home during the pandemic, Ann noticed how the sun’s position in the sky changed over the course of the year in relation to their house. “She marveled over the fact that we had stayed in place for so long that we were able to watch the azimuth of the sun in relation to our home completely shift over the year,” Brian said. Her celestial observations helped inspire the song “Azimuth” on darsombra’s album Dumesday Book, but it also holds a deeper meaning. “It’s the idea of being with something, a relationship, or a project,” Brian shared. “Something that you do slowly, deliberately, and you take the time to develop it.”
Ann truly embodied that level of deep commitment to her life as an artist. Brian and friends are honoring her legacy with a two-day festival at the Ottobar on February 28th and March 1st. Titled “darsombra presents Transmission: a Celebration for Ann Everton”, this event will feature over two dozen of Ann’s favorite bands. Friends share their memories below.
Melissa Webb
Fiber Artist
If you knew Ann you knew joy and what it was like to be around a human who lived free and wide open, who cared and loved so deeply, and who created fearlessly and constantly. When she looked in your eyes you knew she was seeing into your very being.
Jane Vincent
Member of the Band Curse
I’ve been searching for the words to share about Ann Everton, a person who was very dear to me. We have been friends for about 20 years, and got closer as the years went on, as we both kept on DIY touring long after many had thrown in the towel. I felt an ease and understanding with her that I rarely experience, since so few people share that lifestyle (and even fewer are female), especially since I felt we shared the same motivation that kept us driving around and around the country, and in her case, across the world. A literal fellow traveller. How many miles could we have in us without a wreck?
Ann knew herself confidently and absolutely, and she was so kind and true to her authentic self that she could extend that genuine kindness all around her, and if you knew her, I’m sure you felt her warmth radiate on to you. I will be inspired for the rest of my life by her adventurous spirit, her skill at building community with everyone around her, her dedication to learning new things, her bottomless curiosity for the world, and her absolutely inimitable creativity. She once told me she wasn’t worried about AI, because she felt like she could come up with art far stranger than the oddest AI crash out fever dream, and anyone who has seen her perform would surely agree.
Ann’s deep fascination with the world and broad practical knowledge balanced with her knack for the surreal made her an endlessly interesting person to spend time with. She learned to speak the language in many of the countries she visited across the globe, but had just as much interest in travel on a micro scale, leading me to hidden, off trail abandoned cemeteries in Leakin, murals I’d never seen in far flung neighborhoods, and many other Baltimore secrets that only come to those who explore on foot and bike. She was so good at finding the magic in all the world, near and far. One of my enduring memories is riding around the city with her and Brian during Bike Party, the Eraserhead soundtrack blasting from their boom box, a small thing that added an otherworldly element to a normal get together.
It is a tough pill to be reminded that even the most invincible, wild spirit is still housed in a fragile and breakable human body. But the world without end is reflected in how many of us have been touched by and carry with us that spirit, and can pass pieces along to those around us. As so many of us were touched by Ann’s generosity and adventurous spirit in her life, I know we will pass that brightness along to others.
We were young together, and I had imagined we would be old together. The wound of grief that I’ll hold inside for her will serve as a reminder for how much I loved her, and a reminder that this life is a brief gift to be cherished, which Ann did as well as anyone I’ve ever known.
I miss her deeply, and carry the leaden weight of plans and schemes that will never come to fruition. But I hope I can pass on some of the bright light that she shined so generously on me through our years of friendship.
Kristen Forbes
Leader of the Scotch Bonnets and Lady Hatchet Quartet
So much has been and can be said about Ann, the now-legendary Baltimore artist whose untimely passing sent not ripples but hurricane surges of shockwaves around the globe and triggered numerous, lavish remembrances and tributes. Yet my personal memories of Ann will always be just that: personal, tender moments with her as a loving friend and the extraordinary presence she brought to my life. For over ten years, I regularly practiced yoga with Ann and her partner Brian Danolowski; often after class, they would have me back at their home for a delicious meal that Ann would seemingly concoct spontaneously, as well as spirited conversation that would last until we ran out of energy. As a touring musician and full-time creative myself, we all shared a similar ethos that few others live. Connection is such an important part of being human, but when you are an unusual being, it is difficult to find those fellow aliens that understand your existence implicitly. When you do encounter kindred spirits, you cling to those relationships like they are precious heirlooms. More just having someone who got me and my unconventional lifestyle, Ann’s openness and authenticity nurtured my spirit and helped me to grow as a person, to fully realize aspects of myself and be more confident with them. She had an abundance of deep wisdom, limitless generosity and kindness, but also goofy whimsy. A beautiful and good witch, Ann truly was the real deal. Like Bowie, like Prince, she was simply too magical for this world and therefore had to be called to the next. I loved her profoundly and will miss her forever.
Katherine Fahey
Papercut Artist and member of the Storytelling Group the Lantern Sisters
When Ann Everton walked into the yoga studio with her gentle smile, I had no idea how much influence she would have on my life, but I will say I noticed her and Brian. There was something about their love you couldn’t help but notice.
When Ann cut my hair I cherished our conversations about our process as artists reinventing our lives, in pursuit of healthier, happier ones with more time and energy to pursue our creativity. Ann and Brian introduced me to my partner Dan Van Allen and Ann volunteered to be my work study at the yoga studio. Over the years we enjoyed many camping adventures, thanksgivings, festivals, shows, movie nights, yoga practices, video shoots, swims, hikes, and more.
Ann was known for her unique lifestyle and boundless energy. Her enthusiasm and creativity were phenomenal, but what stands out most to me was her generosity. For as much as Ann and Brian toured, they always seemed to be there for us and their door was always open. If I had a question about something Ann often seemed to have an answer. Need a dentist? Have a digestive issue? Need unemployment ? Ann had figured it out and was always willing to share her wisdom. Ann was a smart, kind, talented, generous, hardworking artist and a good, good friend. Ann Everton changed our lives for the better. We will miss her greatly. She and Brian will always hold a special place in our hearts.
Ryan Smith
Musician and Yoga Teacher
I remember the first time Ann and I had a conversation together. Darsombra was playing at the Transmodern festival, in 2012, at the 14Karat Cabaret. I sat in the back of the room, while Ann did projections for the show.
During the song “Thunder Thighs”, there’s a scene at the end of the video where Ann is hanging out under some large trees, and there’s some glowing red orbs coming from the sky. Anyway, when the show ended, I leaned over and asked her if the trees were from the Redwood Forest, in Northern California. She enthusiastically said “yes!”.
Who knew that would be the first of many stories. I’ll miss the epic slide shows from her adventures on tour, around the country, and her adventures around the world. In addition to all of the countless potluck dinners, I will always remember coming over at Thanksgiving time and spending New Years day at Seoul Spa.
Not long after meeting her and Brian, we would cross paths at the Baltimore Yoga Village every week. They inspired me to become a “work study” member, and eventually study to become a yoga instructor. I may never have been a yoga teacher if it weren’t for Ann. Ann and Brian were my first two students. Every week, I would attend Brian’s Community Yoga Class with Ann. Eventually Brian trusted me to be a substitute teacher for the class, and Ann got me my first job as a yoga instructor. Ann and Brian went on to teach yoga at the Cahill Recreation Center. I loved taking their community yoga classes so much that I’d drive from Timonium to West Baltimore in rush-hour traffic to take them. Ann and Brian made yoga fun for me (and so many others).
In addition to the music and arts community, and being a part of the same yoga community, we went camping together many times. Whether it was a quiet day at Assateague Island, or hanging out at a music festival like Fields Fest or Shakemore,” I loved camping with Ann and Brian. Some of my best memories of us hanging out together were while camping. We camped together during my first burner festival at Wickerman and so many times after that.
Ann taught me so many things. But, most of all, she taught me how to love. She cared so much about people. Her sincerity was unparalleled. When she talked to people, she gave them her full attention, and she was polite, yet unfiltered. I loved how honest she was. I never doubted her, because I knew that whatever she said was coming from a place of love and respect.
Annie Gugliotta
Artist
Some of my favorite memories with Ann were from the days when we worked in a fancy hair salon and did a bunch of graffiti together in Baltimore. She drove me around in her little green Subaru hatchback probably listening to Judas Priest or Yes or some other stoner metal/prog rock band. We called our crew WPA for Wyman Park Ann(e)s. We didn’t only ‘bomb’ Wyman Park but also tunnels, trains and bridges.
Dan Keech aka Height
Musician/Rapper
I’m reflecting back to 20-some years ago, when my man Jackson was telling Gabry and I that there’s a cool woman we should hang out with that lives down the street from us. We walked over to her house and saw the craziest art, writing and decor on display. A lampshade painted in homage to Fearless Four’s ‘Problems Of The World Today’ single art? Interviews with Rammellzee that she conducted as a teenager? A life-size painting of N.W.A.? What kind of person is this?
Gabry and I talk all the time about what an inspiration she is, in that she had these bespoke interests and made them into her whole life. Two things we knew about her early on was that she was into making trippy short films and she was heavy into prog rock, and then we watched her and Brian slowly but steadily create a life where trippy short films and prog rock are a worldwide / full-time pursuit.
It means a lot to see someone making that happen, especially when you get to an age where so many artistic friends are stuck putting their passions on the far back-burner. There was no big windfall of money or luck or attention propelling any of this into happening… Brian and [Ann] were working it out day-by-day with nothing but endless creativity, open-mindedness and P.M.A., and it was an incredible reminder of what’s possible.
It’s hard to describe what makes somebody’s presence special. Gabry describes her as having “so much life force,” which gets to the heart of it. I think about her wild and infectious enthusiasm for the things she cared about, and how she would pass it on to everyone around her in this warm and loving way. You felt blessed to get the inside scoop about whatever it was that she couldn’t stop thinking about, and doubly blessed when she made your thing one of those things. The story I keep seeing people sharing about Robert Fripp being moved by Ann’s all-out presence in the crowd at the King Crimson show really says it all.
When I think about Ann, I think of the truest friend there could be, in that she had time for everybody she cared about, and put her whole wild soul into every interaction with you. One of our first times working on something was when I was putting together a tour and she said she could make a video to help me get the word out. She decided she should film me cracking open a years-old black Emu egg (that she had laying around for some reason) and frying it into an omelette as the tour dates rolled by on the screen. The omelette smelled like death, and you can hear her screaming and laughing from behind the camera as the smell took over the house. Everything she did to push my music forward over the subsequent 20 years went down in the same joyful, absurd, one-of-one style.
One of my last times hanging out with Ann was when our tours crossed paths and she hooked up my new band with a slot opening up for Darsombra’s Halloween bash in Littleton, New Hampshire. They demolished the place. It was my first time seeing Ann’s video work on their new massive screen for a packed crowd of already-converted fans in a totally unfamiliar place, and I was so happy to see it. I felt like I was seeing years of hard work paying off.
My favorite moment of the night was when I was talking to Gabry on the phone in the backstage area and Ann grabbed the phone from me and started filling Gabry in on the juicy details of the night and the funny characters you come across at these shows, in a way that only Ann could. I remember sitting back and sipping coffee and smiling, listening to Ann making Gabry a part of our crazy night. Her approach to things always said “we’re all part of this” and her absolutely hilarious style always brought me back to the age-old “don’t forget to have fun.”
I got the news of Ann’s passing at 3am, getting back to our motel after the first show of our tour. I felt the urge to fall apart or run away, but then I remembered I’m out here doing the very thing she pushed me to do in so many ways through so many years. Nothing makes any sense except to roll on to the next show with Call The Doctor blasting in the car. I can see from all this writing about her that I’m one of hundreds of people around the world that felt pushed forward by her, in the same way. We’re all so lucky to have known her and to have her make time for us like she did.
Myrtle
Venue in Rhode Island
Ann was a true artist. Anytime darsombra was passing through New England, they knew we’d find a way to [present] their show, just because it was that special. When they played last month [in September 2025], everyone in the room demanded an encore. They ended up staying and watching the acts at our monthly variety show, and Ann kept gushing over how amazing it was that there was a place for all the people whose music and creativity doesn’t fit in a box and often wouldn’t find an outlet.
David Brenner
Sound and Film Artist and darsombra’s Publicist
I am stunned and gutted to hear of Ann Everton’s passing. I’ve known and worked with Brian since the Meatjack days and have since watched Darsombra become one of the most fascinating psychedelic acts out there. Ann’s presence in the project quickly shifted from handling the visual/projection aspect of the then solo act into a full-fledged member, and her impact was immediate. Matching Brian’s energy for performing and taking their art to masses everywhere, she emanated an aura of fathomless positivity. Darsombra is one of my favorite live acts: from watching them have an entire venue of fans sit on the floor and meditate during their sets to the band’s pop-up sets in the middle of nowhere in a beautiful setting to running through the audience rocking her ultra-fun interpretive dance moves, Ann knew how to draw you into the performance. We had even planned a collaborative album which we were hoping to record this summer, but it hadn’t come together yet. Ann, you are already incredibly missed. Everybody, go breathe some fresh air, experience nature, and crank Darsombra endlessly.
Jon Garrett
Artist Manager and Ann’s Brother-in-Law
Ann was an incredibly warm and generous soul—and a true artist. She devoted her life to creativity in all its forms—through her visual and video projects, and through music as one half of Darsombra with her beloved husband, Brian Daniloski. Together, they built a beautiful life, touring the world to share their art and nurturing a vibrant community of independent artists in their hometown of Baltimore. Ann was truly one of a kind, and she will be deeply missed.
