The former ED award-winning feature entertainer and acclaimed adult film star shares how she balances life today as a successful artist and multi-faceted entrepreneur.
(NOTE: This story appears in the July 2025 issue of ED Magazine.)
By day, she’s Kira Lee Cipolla, a brush-wielding artist bringing blank canvases to life with color and unfiltered emotion. Her field of study is typographical pointillism; it is a method of using song lyrics and text to form images, where each word becomes a pixel in a larger mosaic. As a student of popular culture, her subjects are instantly recognizable, echoing icons that feel at once universal and personal. She isn’t exactly starving either. Original Kira Lee works begin at $5,000. Commissions? Better start saving.
But by night, she transforms into Dani Daniels, a magnetic force in the adult entertainment world whose blend of 100% proof magnetism and unapologetic confidence has earned her a devoted global online audience. Her Instagram boasts 8.5 million followers, and her success on OnlyFans places her among the top .05% of creators worldwide.
To paraphrase a famous anchorman, Dani is kind of a big deal. People know her.
Kira, however? She has made her mark. She’s not residing in anyone’s shadow. Even if it’s cast by herself.
Equal parts entrepreneur, painter, and on-camera charisma machine, Ms. Daniels — or Mrs. Cipolla, depending on who you ask — embodies a new kind of feminist evolution, rising from the ashes of a thousand burning brassieres. She’s a renaissance woman who defies categorization, merges alter egos, reclaims her sexuality, and redefines what it means to own your story and know your worth.
To meet Kira, not Dani, at least not anymore, is to do so in person. Along Main Street in downtown Sarasota, a city steeped in artistic tradition thanks to the legacy of the Ringling Museum, you’ll find her trinity of expression: a cozy coffee shop (DD Roasters), an adjacent gallery (Kira Lee Art), and, if you’re fortunate enough to gain entry through a hidden door (not telling), a members-only speakeasy (called ‘Club 23’). Together with her husband, former mainstream publicist Victor “Vic” Cipolla, the couple owns seven businesses, mostly operating under the Dani Daniels brand, employing a staff of over 30 people.
To be entertained by Dani? Just Google her. Odds are, you already have. Fight the blush, too; it’s perfectly fine to be curious. Judging by her residuals, you’re in good company. Now 35 and living waterfront on the idyllic island of Siesta Key, Florida, Daniels stands at the edge of a future wide open with potential. Everything in her path is intentional, the result of hard-earned lessons from nights spent on the stage as both house dancer and headlining feature. Her past isn’t baggage; it’s a blueprint.
Not bad for an art school dropout who started stripping at a Spearmint Rhino in the valley just to make rent. In this installment of EXOTIC DANCER’s “In Conversation” series, we sit down with Daniels in the backroom of her speakeasy to talk reinvention, resilience, and painting her own self-portrait of a lady on fire.
ED: “Typographical pointillism” seems much more “advanced” than simply sitting down to paint. What drew you to this specific area of artistic endeavor?
Daniels: I always liked quotes and lyrics and music helped me a lot. When I was younger, I was really into classic rock. It’s kind of where my art started, and just like the lyrics behind it. Lyrics resonate with me. And the same with quotes — one of my favorite pieces I’ve done was of the Dalai Lama. But I’m also a big Rolling Stones fan. So it just created this extra depth to me. I love music, the art and those artists are the the ones I find inspiring.
ED: It’s a bit pretentious to start with an existential question, but I have to know: What came first, the art or the artist?
Daniels: I’d say the artist has always been here. For as long as I can remember, I’ve been drawn to art and expression. When I graduated from high school, I wanted to study fine art, but my mother wanted me to study fashion, thinking it would lead to an actual career. So I lied to her for two years and took every art elective that the college I attended offered. Eventually, the school caught on to what I was doing. One day, I asked my guidance counselor, ‘Do you need a degree to be an artist?’ And she said, ‘Well, no. Do you need to pursue [an art career]?’ I told her I think I got everything I needed from college. So I dropped out and accumulated a massive art school debt. This debt led me to modeling gigs, which led to nude modeling gigs, and it took off from there.
ED: For many artists, sometimes the dream is put on hold in the interest of simply surviving.
Daniels: Yeah, that’s how I ended up dancing. I was still grinding to pay off school. I went to LA and I worked at a Spearmint Rhino. I did a couple of clubs in the valley. I did that for a while and then, like so many before me, I moved to follow a boy. I moved to Nebraska, of all places. Once I moved to Omaha, I would drive to Council Bluffs, Iowa, to dance at a club called The Playhouse. To this day, it is my favorite strip club on the planet; it was a giant barn that they converted into a strip club. It was a BYOB, nine stages. I went from working in LA clubs with no experience — where you’d do two-song sets and then walk the floor for hours — to Iowa, where I was making $1,500 a night. There’s not much to do in Iowa besides look at titties, so business was good. I would kill it. Fistfuls of cash. I lived like a king in Omaha.
ED: Sounds like The Playhouse was your strip club finishing school.
Daniels: After a while, that place turned me into an athlete. I’m doing nine song sets, the poles are 30 feet high, and I was essentially learning how to house dance while working. The veteran girls would teach me to hustle, even though I knew I could from my time in LA. Physically, it was the most shredded I’ve ever been in my life, but coming home at 5 am was killing me and just the lifestyle of a house dancer is tough on the mind and body. I loved that club, but it was a total Roadhouse vibe. I had to plan my exit. I knew I couldn’t do this for the rest of my life.
ED: So the idea of doing movies came organically?
Daniels: Yes, at the club! Some random day I’m on stage and I overheard these two guys talking about girl on girl porn. I asked what that was because I had never watched porn. I thought if you did porn you had to do gangbangs out the gate. I thought that was normal, like ‘Today, you’re doing so and so in the ass.’ I was like, ‘So you can just fuck women?’ And they said, ‘Oh yeah!’
I went home and went down a deep hole of research. I found a bunch of agencies in LA and researched the average pay. I told my boyfriend, ‘I’m thinking about exploring this avenue of my sexuality. It sounds like I can make really good money, and I get to fuck a bunch of hot chicks, plus it’s safe.’ He didn’t want me doing it; he was just not cool with it. So that was the end of that relationship and my beginnings with porn.
ED: Were you still involved with your art then or did porn kind of take over?
Daniels: I would still paint on my off-time and not show anyone. It wasn’t until another ex-boyfriend saw my work and motivated me to pursue it as more than just a hobby. To start thinking about it as a career because I didn’t want to be 65 and still sucking dick on camera.
ED: I mean, who does? Honestly?
Daniels: Porn was fun. I was exploring my sexuality in a safe, controlled environment and making money. When I was on set and when I was dancing, there was always talk of the endgame. Being old and wrinkly. I think there is a market for ‘old and wrinkly,’ but I also understand performers are not going to be making $1,500 every night for the rest of their lives. So I saved my money. You can’t have the type of mentality where you go out and buy a Louis Vuitton bag, then try to make more money the next night. That was always at the back of my mind, but I also didn’t have a game plan. I had my art. I could paint. I thought to myself, ‘Do I become another struggling artist in the world? Is this a good endgame?’
ED: Did you consider porn a day job until the art career took off?
Daniels: Porn was never meant to be a career. I was going to eat some pussy and go home. For the record, I did not get into porn to be a porn star. I always knew, I wanted to fuck some hot chicks and then go about the rest of my life. That was my plan.
ED: In terms of making plans, there are worse ones, I suppose.
Daniels: True. As it turns out, I got very popular. I just kept getting more and more bookings because, the problem with lesbian porn is not a lot of girls like eating pussy, so a lot of girls are what they call ‘gay for pay’. I guess this was my unicorn, because I just liked my job.
ED: And your popularity in porn eventually lead to you being a feature entertainer, right?
Daniels: The funny thing is, when I started feature dancing, I don’t remember when or how it even started. I think it was maybe my porn agent who told me how much money I can make going to clubs and then I eventually met Dave Michaels (of A-List Features). I have a memory of a goldfish.
My first weekend featuring, I remember doing my show, and then everyone was just staring at me. I asked if I did something wrong. They’re like, ‘Oh no, you can actually do pole work!’ And I was like, ‘Of course, can the other porn girls not do pole work?’ I’m not trying to shit on porn girls but many of them are not dancers. Many don’t have the experience. They would maybe wear a cheap costume, or walk around the pole, or shove their tits in the customers’ face. Very few of them, from what I was told, knew how to dance. So I lucked out there, too.
ED: A porn girl with a huge following and can dance. That’s what we call a ‘unicorn’.
Daniels: Dave Michaels would call me ‘club cleaner’ all the time. He would send me to clubs after a porn girl went and bombed. I would put on a very good show, and would have a bunch of interactive things for the crowd. Another thing I would do — that I guess other girls didn’t do — was go back to the dressing room, get changed, and go back on the floor. A lot of girls like to stay behind the scenes and wait. My mentality was telling me, ‘Go make some money, bitch.’ And I would walk the floor like a house girl. I wanted to meet as many fans as I could, make as much money as I could and bounce.
ED: You had that classic hustler’s mentality — but that eventually came to a stop when you suddenly stepped away from featuring in 2017, right?
Daniels: I had just moved to New York. I was still feature dancing, working on my website during the week and shooting content. I kept dancing because I was enjoying it — and it helped cover costs, especially since a new website doesn’t bring in money right away. I also had my first exhibition of my art in a major gallery! I had to complete 26 paintings in three months. I had five paintings ready to show, but had to do almost thirty more to fill this gallery. That was in October and then I got booked to do another the following January. That’s when my art was connecting.
ED: Tell me how you avoided burnout and effectively compartmentalized your two careers and, in essence, two personas at once.
Daniels: I separated everything into days. I have days that I’m Dani and I have days that I’m Kira. I sound like a fucking psychopath when I say that. On weekends, when I was feature dancing, I was Dani. Dani is definitely a character that I play. It’s a very sexualized version of myself, with dick and pussy jokes. I don’t talk like that when I’m running the speakeasy. Even Camryn, my assistant, says she very rarely sees me in Dani mode. I would do my cam work, Monday, Wednesday and Friday. Then on Tuesday and Thursday, I would paint. That’s pretty much how it is now, except I don’t feature anymore.
I’ve definitely experienced burnout. When we moved to Florida, bought the building and started the other businesses, I was very burnt out. My mental health was going downhill. So, as much as it killed me as a workaholic, I took Sundays off. I don’t do shit on Sundays. I stay in my pajamas and snuggle my dog. That’s how I recharge. I’ve learned how important it is to listen to your body — it needs time to heal. In sex work or dancing, you just can’t go nonstop. I love what I do, but I also have to respect my mental health. I check in with myself often: ‘Am I okay? Am I enjoying this? Is this the life I pictured for myself? Does it bring me joy?’ And right now, I’m lucky to say yes — to all of it.
For more information, please visit danisthings.com.
