How I Accidentally Stumbled Into Medusa Madness
So last Tuesday, I was staring at my laptop feeling like my brain was filled with wet cement. Totally stuck. Needed something wild to kick my creativity awake, y’know? Remembered seeing “Medusa art” pop up somewhere online, thought, “What the heck, let’s see what that nonsense is about.” Figured snake hair couldn’t hurt.
Started simple: opened my sketchbook – the cheap one I use for garbage ideas. Grabbed a black pen first. Tried drawing just, like,one eye. Big mistake. It looked like a sad potato.
Here’s what I actually did step-by-step:
- Went scavenging online for examples. Not gonna lie, typed “Medusa art weird cool” and mashed images. Saw a piece where her snakes were made of tangled wires. Mind slightly blown.
- Ditched the pen like it burned me. Dug out my old watercolor set – colors felt right.
- Splashed a dirty green wash as a background. Didn’t plan it, just poured water and pigment like a toddler. Let it drip everywhere.
- Focused ONLY on the snakes. Tried making them look like knotted ropes first. Failed miserably. Ended up painting loose, slimy shapes with a thin brush. Added a stupid gold shimmer to one. Accidentally liked it.
- Ignored her face completely for ages. Seriously, just painted snakes swirling around blank space. Felt weirdly freeing.
- Face time? Almost chickened out. Used a pencil to ghost in where eyes/nose/mouth might go. Kept it simple – sharp cheekbone lines, one visible eye looking sideways. Left the other side hidden by serpent chaos.
- Biggest accident? Was cleaning a brush, flicked dirty pink water right onto the paper. Panicked. Blotted it. Suddenly it looked like raw, torn skin on her shoulder. Kept it. Slapped some reddish-brown around it. Boom. Texture I never planned.
Took me maybe three coffee-cold hours total? Wasn’t aiming for a masterpiece. Just needed to shake loose the cobwebs. Learned something dumb but real: Sometimes you gotta let the thing get messy first. Don’t force the whole scary lady with snakes. Start with one goopy coil. Then another. Then a freak water stain becomes something gross and cool.
Is it good art? Who cares. My brain stopped feeling like concrete. Started seeing shapes in weird places – my kid’s spaghetti dinner looked like tangled snakes. Mission accomplished. Next time I’m stuck, I’m drawing monster parts before breakfast. Simple as that.
