There are some experiences whose power over you is difficult to escape. Some messages and lessons simply slide into the cleft of your brain like a letter in the mouth of a postal service box—gliding down its gray, vein-marbled walls to the base ferment of your mind, where they take root like the rhizomes of a venomous hosta. Some understandings of the self that these experiences embody are capable of haunting you for decades—like a shadow that is nestled out of sight but whose presence always clouds the periphery of your perception. Living with such reality can be like inhabiting a bewitched house, where its occupants are both the residents and the phantoms that spoil its grounds. Celestial Blues is like an act of expungement by singer and songwriter Kristina Esfandiari, aka King Woman. I...
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