Ellen Stedfeld
Bio
Perpetually immersed in drawing, illustration, and creative experiments, at live events and @EllesaurArts.com
Community arts in NYC/Queens -- now sketching NY Comic Con, Oct 8-12th 2025
Love participating in challenges to motivate new work!
Stories (60)
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Songs of Starlight
Nobody can hear a scream in the vacuum of space, or so they say. You can try it, but the sound dies out seconds after its release... you along with it, IF of course you're the sort of being to actually need a steady helping of air, and don't have a helmet to pump you full of its sweet satisfying nutrients. Once everything is gone, this inky emptiness seeps into your insides and suffocates all semblance of life, instead.
By Ellen Stedfeld3 years ago in Fiction
Before You Know It
She was roused awake by the shaking of the train. The landscape out the windows passed by in a blur. They were moving fast, almost too quick for comfort. But the fog of sleep made it hard to place quite where and why. Rubbing eyes, looking around the cabin, it wasn't helping. The recollection of her last waking moments should have filled in by now, except she remained just as confused.
By Ellen Stedfeld3 years ago in Fiction
Dreams Adrift
Tooot, all aboard! Dreams aloft. Setting sail for new possibilities, a ship without compare, and bearing a boatload of opportunities, from glittering rooms to one lucky ticket, top to bottom you're a winner, fated, honored, Everyone! Bring your hopes and baggage on this ride beyond all your greatest imagining, one and only, inconceivable, inevitable, irresistible... The Titanic!
By Ellen Stedfeld4 years ago in Poets
Art In The Garden
Especially when I move to a new neighborhood, I try not to walk home the same way twice. New York City has so much to share on every block, whether it's tasty restaurants or obscure architectural details, convenient dollar stores or cute stray cats. It helps to notice where the closest delis are and how late they stay open, what's happening at the art center or library, if the nearby bar has outdoor seating this season, which side of the street boasts the smoothest sidewalks in case I ever need to roll a suitcase around (and which cracked ones make the most interesting photos), how busy the laundromat is right now, when a new business will be opening, beautiful murals or graffiti to admire, and where I can get a dramatic view of the sky.
By Ellen Stedfeld4 years ago in Journal
A Frosty Outing
[SFS 7] This was the meeting place, but no one was in sight. She looked around suspiciously. It was just like him to give her the wrong time, or set the stage beforehand with a tricky prank. Then she heard his voice nearby, before she could actually see him. "Love the scarf, dear."
By Ellen Stedfeld4 years ago in Fiction
The Marigold Cafe
[SFS 4] A single marigold in a vase on the windowsill. The bright yellow caught her eye, and the feeling of foreshadowing that came over her as she lifted the flower and twirled it between her fingers. What's next? she asked it. To anyone else it would seem an insignificant detail of the room, but for her it felt like the most important clue of all.
By Ellen Stedfeld4 years ago in Fiction
A Deliciously Dangerous Game
[SFS 2] The scene was perfect. A fancy restaurant, glittering table settings, they had both dressed to the nines. In all the years M and R had worked together, against each other, chased each other across borders of time and space, and vehemently vowed to end each other, she had never expected them to end up here.
By Ellen Stedfeld4 years ago in Fiction
At Eventide, We Meet
She clutched the locket to her chest, amidst the sour howling winds. Her hair flew around her face, her brow knotted in worry, but her fingers held firmly around the metal heart. Everything within sight was a dark luminescent blue, punctured by stains of black shadow. Except, between the latticed tendrils of its casing, at the locket's center burned a light like the last coal in a fading fire. She rubbed her fingers against its surface, as though to warm them from the chill. It was not a good night to stand in these desolate wastelands alone. As if ever there was? "I will stay until the time appointed."
By Ellen Stedfeld5 years ago in Fiction
Cultivating Creativity
I could make art every day for the rest of my life, and never run out of ideas. Not only have I learned to draw in many styles, to use paints and charcoal and a multitude of materials, but I have trained myself to see limitless inspiration.
By Ellen Stedfeld5 years ago in Humans
