My name is Ksenia, and wherever I go—especially when I meet people abroad—they often light up and say, “Like the warrior princess?” And although they’re joking, there’s something powerful about that association. Something primal. I’ve come to embrace it—not as a literal link to a fantasy heroine, but as a thread to the deeper archetype of the female warrior.
The Sacred Emotion of Rage
Rage is often feared, especially in women. It’s dismissed, silenced, or reframed as irrational. But historically, rage—particularly when it springs from injustice, protection, or love—has been seen as sacred. In many traditions, goddesses of war also rule over fertility, transformation, or even creation itself. Think of Sekhmet from Egyptian mythology, a lioness goddess of both destruction and healing. Or Kali from Hindu belief, fierce and wild, dancing in blood yet also symbolic of liberation.
Female warrior archetypes embody a special kind of rage—one that protects, that draws lines, that says “no more.”
In my art, I often work with themes of resistance, emotional boundaries, and quiet defiance. Pieces like "Just a Phase" don’t shout, but they burn. They’re emotional shields, marked with floral fire, metallic defenses, and eyes that see everything.
Warrior Women in Mythology and Folk Art
Across cultures, female warriors have existed not only on battlefields, but as protectors of their communities and inner worlds. In Norse mythology, we see the Valkyries—choosers of the slain, who guide souls and defend honor. In Slavic folk tales, fierce women guard forests and sacred lands. In Japan, there were onna-bugeisha—female samurai trained in battle.
These women weren’t defined by brute force, but by clarity of purpose and deep emotional intuition. Their rage wasn’t chaos; it was channelled.
Portraiture in art often portrays these figures not in the heat of violence, but in stillness—eyes wide, mouths firm, posture grounded. They carry swords, yes, but also inner fire. You can see echoes of that in my piece "Fetish", where power is sensual and quiet, or "Silent Saints", where resistance is tied with symbolic rope and faith.
Sacred Rage as Boundary Work
To me, sacred rage is about boundaries. About knowing where you end and others begin. It’s the moment when your body says “no” before your brain catches up. It’s the fire that protects your softness. And it’s deeply feminine.
I explore these ideas through symbolism—flames, thorns, closed mouths, burning petals. I’ve always believed the feminine is strongest when it’s honest. Not always kind. Not always pleasing. But deeply protective, rooted, and emotionally awake.
Warrior Archetypes Today
The modern female warrior might not wear armor—but she holds emotional intelligence like a blade. She knows when to burn and when to bloom. She might be a therapist, a teacher, an artist, a protester. She knows how to speak up for herself and for others. And she likely carries sacred rage within her—even if it’s unspoken.
This archetype continues to inspire my work because it allows room for complexity. You don’t have to be calm all the time. You don’t have to be soft. You can be both fierce and feeling. Both intuitive and defiant.
If you’ve ever felt something stir inside you when you saw a painting of a woman with her jaw set, or a statue of a goddess mid-roar—that’s the archetype reaching out to you.
