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TattooLOG

References, processes and ideas that guide my tattoo work. It’s a space to give context and clarity to the style and the thinking behind the designs.

 

Medusa, After Everything According to Bernini

It’s not the face of a monster. It’s the face of someone who has seen too much.

Looking at this sculpture—Bernini’s Medusa—the first thing that hits you is the sadness. Not anger. Not fear. Just deep, quiet pain. Her eyes almost closed, her mouth slightly open—not screaming, but caught in something between grief and exhaustion. She looks devastated.

It’s not the face of a monster. It’s the face of someone who’s seen too much—someone transformed not just by myth, but by trauma. According to Bernini’s interpretation, we’re seeing Medusa after everything—after the legends and the fear are stripped away.

The snakes in her hair twist and writhe with a kind of restless panic. There’s movement everywhere, except in her face. That stillness in the middle of the chaos—that’s what makes her so human. So tragic. The violence is around her, not within her.

This Medusa isn’t threatening. She looks like she’s carrying the weight of the curse, not casting it.

According to Ovid, Medusa could turn anyone who looked at her to stone. But in this version—like in Bernini’s earlier one—you see her right at the edge of transformation. Right in that unbearable moment when she sees herself.

There’s a poem by Giovan Battista Marino from the 1600s that captures it perfectly:

“I do not know if mortal chisel sculpted me thus,
or, in reflecting myself in a clear glass,
sight of myself made me such.”

It’s as if she looks in a mirror, realizes what she’s become, and breaks. That’s the moment Bernini freezes—not the monster, not the weapon, but the woman before the myth locks in. Right before our eyes, she turns to stone. And we can’t look away.

The Medusas I tattooed weren’t about strength or revenge. They were about pain—real, layered pain that didn’t need to shout. Just to be seen.

At the end of this same post, I’m sharing three Medusa tattoos inspired by Bernini’s sculpture. I’ve done quite a few Medusa pieces, but these three stand out to me. The first one was done early in my tattooing journey—simple, less polished—but I still feel connected to it. The other two are smaller flash tattoos that carry that same sad, powerful essence. I hope they capture a little of the emotion I found in Bernini’s Medusa.

@notattoo_berlin

Gian Lorenzo Bernini (1598-1680) Medusa- Capitoline Museums in Rome,

@notattoo_berlin in @visionsofextasy studio, Berlin

@notattoo_berlin in @visionsofextasy studio, Berlin

Medusa in Art

Bernini’s Medusa (Marble Bust, c. 1638–1648)

Other Notable Artistic Depictions of Medusa

Medusa in Mythology

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