The dangerous old woman in the woods (who I aspire to be)

For she is wild and free, and she is connected, deeply

alone in the woods

bird leg home, skulls on fire

dangerous old hag

A Haiku for Baba Yaga.

I wonder what she would think of such a thing.

I will be honest, it is not what I had anticipated writing this morning, but she has been on my mind, this old dangerous hag.

I have read

Dr Sharon Blackie

’s Hagitude through twice now, well three times actually, including an early proof I was sent to see the illustrations I crafted for her in place. I get something new from it each time.

I just finished listening to the audio version though - I love to listen to books as I paint and draw - and as I always find, I get even more out of a book when I listen as well. Particularly when the author reads it. There is an embodiment that happens now that more than one sense is involved, and I find myself physically moving and reacting to the tales in a way that doesn’t happen when I hold a book. Like being a passenger in a car, versus being a driver, almost.

I also ALWAYS forget that there are some of my words in there too, not just the old women that fell out of my pencils. Sharon asked me why I love the archetype of the dangerous old woman, Baba Yaga, so much. And it was something altogether different to hear her read my words aloud (instead of me just reading them). 

And as I’ve grown older, as I’ve lived longer among the chaos and beauty and horrors of human society, Baba Yaga has pulled ever more strongly at my imagination, and at my heart.

If I had to put into one succinct sentence why I love this character so dearly, it would be: because she is wild and free, and she is connected, deeply.

She’s free to be who she genuinely is – helper to those who deserve it, but refusing to put up with any nonsense. She knows the heart of the forest, she understands the circle of life, the cruelty and curiosity, wonder and wisdom, and everything in between. She lives a life of reciprocity with the world around her, preferring the simple and intricate (and feminine) complexity of nature to the contrived and unnecessarily complicated human communities.

From Hagitude by Sharon Blackie, September Publishing, 2022

If anything, my delight at the essence of Baba Yaga has only grown with each year that I progress towards my eventual (and wonderful!) embodiment of the old woman who lives in the woods. Though not even peri-menopausal yet (that is a whole other thing - bring it on), I am already wanting to skip ahead to barefoot, no bra, no makeup and hair not died, only trees and creatures for company, a chicken legged home that I would fuss over and scratch the scaly legs of (I had a pet chook that loved her legs to be rubbed, dear old thing). I do love a cold plunge, and a mortar seems perfect for that. The skull lanterns feel a little kitsch halloween, but if it solidifies the vibe, I’m in. Oh, and even though I am a commited vegetarian, a nearby village with a healthy concern that should I be bothered by them, they could well end up in my man-sized oven.

Later this week I am going to write a little more about this fascinating, powerful woman of folklore, and talk a little about my thinking around the illustration, but today I thought I might ask you, well two things really.

Have you read Hagitude? If so, what elder woman archetype did you most resonate with from Sharon’s tale telling and research?

And if you haven’t read the book but have a favourite old woman folktale or fairy story or work of fiction, I would love to hear that too. Maybe it is an elder woman from your own life who seemed fit for a fairy tale that comes to mind.

I want to start gathering all of your insights as part of the continuing {wild+woman} project. But more on that soon - for now, send me your thoughts about your favourite old women!