(She Summons Excerpt) The Expressive Dark Arts by Michele J. Celello

[Editor’s Note: This essay was included in She Summons: Why Goddess Feminist Activist Spirituality? Volume 1, coedited by Kaalii Cargill and Helen Hye-Sook Hwang (Mago Books, 2021).]

The Expressive Dark Arts:

Writing, Painting, and Dancing in the Dark with Kali

As a scholar of philosophy and religion, I have a strong background in the practice and study of world religions. It was not until I began a master’s degree in women’s spirituality that I grasped the enormous role the arts can play in spiritual practice. The arts that have been prevalent in my life are writing poetry, painting images of the divine feminine, and belly dancing. Taking on dark themes was new for me, in other words, focusing on fear or painful emotions while creating art. The Goddess Kali’s image was essential to accessing my darkest emotions. Kali is both a nurturing mother and a ferocious Goddess who destroys demons in the Hindu pantheon. The demons she fights are representative of the demons in our own minds. She is often depicted as a dark skinned and wild enraged woman wearing skulls around her neck and severed arms for a skirt. In this representation she is stepping on the God Shiva, which symbolizes the union we achieve with God once our personal ego is transformed.

I had always written poetry, but never on the dark side until my master’s studies began. I began writing poetry on the darkest emotions I found within myself. My personal story is one of verbal abuse and fear so intense that I have had nightmares of a man chasing me and trying to kill me all my life. Although my stepfather Tony has passed away, the fear of him was still very real for me and was not only manifesting in my dreams, it had permeated my waking consciousness as a phobia. Writing poetry to Kali has helped me conquer my phobia, and the process continues today. 

In 2005 I began painting for the first time since childhood. I never thought of myself as an artist, but I started painting in a class for New College of California called Art as Sacred Practice. I have been painting regularly since then, creating many images of Goddesses, Black Madonnas, shamans, queens, and priestesses. What happens when one creates sacred art? This is the research question which arose out of my experiences as I began my own practice of sacred art by painting female icons from around the world. I started seeing magical manifestations and synchronicities happen right away. As I looked deeply into my own art work I found great healing and transformation especially with dark images, such as Kali’s fierce face. 

My transformational journey begins with dark poetry. When Samhain or Halloween approaches, I think of necromancy, speaking with my ancestors, or speaking to the dark aspects of myself. On one hollow’s eve I wrote a poem to express the darkness within myself – fear and rage. My story is personal and somewhat embarrassing, but I release my shame and hope it helps guide many of you through your own darkness. Over the past few years I developed a driving phobia. I would have panic attacks while driving and have to pull off the highway. For many, this type of phobia is caused by an initial car accident, for me that was not the case, it may have been the ominous New England weather. Its source turned out to be much deeper.  At first I only had about four panic attacks per year, so it was annoying, but not overwhelming. One year the attacks became so frequent that I gave up driving on the highway altogether. At first I found a carpool to help me get to work and then I hired a friend, who was out of work, to drive me. None of my medical treatments were working, not counseling, not even medicine. I decided to turn to the arts to heal myself and this is my story.

I wrote about a nightmare I had several years ago that described the unresolved fear of my stepfather, from my teen years. In the dream, I am hiding under a desk in my house. I fear that someone is following me. I run outside and down the street; someone is chasing me. I run into a large puddle of water, slowing down my escape. I turn and find a man standing in front of me, and I stab him in the throat with a knife. I am so full of fear that I cannot pull out the knife; I fear that if I pull out the knife he might still be alive and kill me, just like in the movies. I awaken in enormous fear, thinking the knife is still in his throat. There is no feeling of guilt, only fear.

 I interpret the dream immediately upon waking as a representation of the fear I still have of my stepfather, Tony. I believe my subconscious still worries that Tony is alive and can kill me. Tony had died about ten years ago! I also knew that the knife in Tony’s throat was also in my throat, for I was never able to verbalize my anger toward Tony. I knew if I engaged in an argument with him that his anger would only increase, so I remained silent. He not only verbally abused me and my brothers, but I found out on my mother’s death bed that he had beaten my mother. My mother and Tony had kept this information from me my whole life. The beatings must have happened at night or when I was in college. I was told by a close friend of my mother’s. I knew it was true, and I remembered seeing bruises on my mother’s legs when I was a teenager. I was overflowing with anger, yet I could not speak about it. My mother was too sick to communicate, and Tony was already dead.  I remember telling my brother it was a good thing Tony was dead, or I’d kill him myself. That’s how angry I was. Shortly after I had this dream, I danced or enacted the dream at Lesley University in a workshop in Boston. The instructor and Dance Therapist, Norma Canner, allowed me to enact the stabbing of another actress, but instead of leaving the knife in her throat, I pulled it out and watched her die on the floor. We performed the death scene twice, so my subconscious could really see the death. This was a powerful exercise for me, as it gave me my power back. I stopped the abuse: I was in control.

 I began writing a poem to express this dream as well, and the image of Kali came to me. The poem is called “Kali, Pull out the Knife.” She represents the death of the ego and the union with the divine, for our selfish, individual self must die before we can merge with the eternal self. As I wrote, I discovered that the reason I could not drive home was because my subconscious mind thought that Tony was still there, alive in my house. This was a liberating discovery. I decided to paint Kali, standing on Tony rather than Shiva with a knife in her throat. I still needed to see that image of Tony as dead. Once I painted this image, I began to gesture the stepping on of Tony and pulling the knife out of my throat as if I was Kali herself! I began to dance in a meditative state of consciousness. This process was liberating for me. I was also forgiving Tony for his verbal abuse. In this dance Tony was also Shiva the God who dances the earth into creation, or the creative aspect within us.

Gothic tribal belly dance is a modern form of belly dance, unique to the western world. This style of belly dance is another way of dancing in the dark. These dancers wear black costumes and heavy black eye make-up and sometimes strands of skulls, like Kali’s, hang from their hair. Some of these dancers are priestesses of the dark goddess, the goddess of the underworld, such as Persephone. I saw a wonderful show one Samhain in Salem, Massachusetts, sponsored by the gothic tribal dancer and priestess Aepril Schaile. It was an emotional performance with many dancers dressed in black and expressing their dark, or so called negative emotions. One performer, Jaylee, danced with her hands tied together as a reenactment of sexual abuse, a powerfully healing expression for the dancer. Ella Rodgers danced as Kali, complete with red painted hands and tongue, an animalistic experience to watch. I have started collecting costume pieces that can be used to dance as Kali, as I know costuming can transform one’s consciousness. As a professional belly dancer, I have put on my Isis wings (an enormous pleated gold veil) and felt an immediate attitude adjustment; it was as if I became Isis in the flesh. I still need to conquer my fear of driving on the highway in the dark. Practicing driving a short distance and then making the trip longer and longer was part of my therapy in conquering this phobia. Each time I drove in the dark, I prepared by dancing like Kali, full of courage, to give me the strength to drive.

My artistic expressions became a profound experience, as I began to feel empowered and more courageous. I was filled with immense joy, and I knew I could conquer my phobia. With the correct medical assistance, I am driving one hour to work again on my own. Expressing the dark arts has alleviated these nightmares and transformed my present day life with my phobia of driving. The image of the Goddess Kali was important for me, as the fierceness of her image lead to self-transformation.  Kali’s nurturing side came forth, as well in the forgiveness I felt for my abuser. I encourage others to dance, paint, and write in the dark. 

About the Author: MICHELE J. CELELLO

Michele is a mother, poet, painter, health physicist, and a professional Middle Eastern dancer.  She holds a BA in Philosophy, with a minor in physics from Northeastern University and an MA in Women’s Spirituality from New College of California.  Through her arts she wishes to resurrect the feminine aspects of divinity for personal and collective transformation.  You may see her poetry and paintings in Talking to Goddess, She is Everywhere, vol. 3, Anointed: A Devotional Anthology for the Deities ofthe Near and Middle East, and Goddess Page