Designing The Odyssey: A Poster You Can Get Lost In

I’ll admit, before seeing Christopher Nolan’s recent adaptation of The Odyssey, I really didn’t know Homer’s epic very well. I knew some of the famous pieces—the Cyclops, the Trojan Horse, the Sirens. But I had never really connected all of those stories into one enormous journey.

Then I saw the movie.

And then I went back and saw it again.

I loved it, but one of my favorite parts actually came afterward. Social media was suddenly full of discussions, explanations, and deep dives into the meaning behind the characters, creatures, and obstacles Odysseus encounters. The more I learned, the more fascinating the story became. Things I had originally seen as monsters or strange adventures started to feel like symbols for temptation, pride, grief, identity, perseverance, and the struggle to make it home.

That was what made me want to turn The Odyssey into a poster.

More Than Monsters and Mythology

One of the things I came to love about the story is how almost every encounter can be interpreted as something larger.

The Cyclops, Polyphemus, is obviously a terrifying physical obstacle, but his story also becomes a lesson about pride and ego. Odysseus is clever enough to escape him, yet his own pride leads him to reveal his identity afterward—with enormous consequences. I love that tension between intelligence and arrogance. Odysseus can be incredibly resourceful while also being the cause of some of his own problems.

Circe was another character I wanted prominently represented. Her ability to transform men into animals makes her feel like a symbol of temptation, control, and the more instinctive side of human nature. But she isn’t simply a villain, either. Like so many characters in The Odyssey, she is more complicated than that, eventually becoming someone who helps Odysseus continue his journey.

Then there are the Sirens, one of my favorite pieces of the mythology. Their danger isn’t brute strength—it’s desire. They promise something irresistible, and surviving them requires understanding that temptation without surrendering to it. There’s something incredibly modern about that idea.

The story is full of moments like these. Scylla and Charybdis represent the terrifying reality of choosing between two dangers when there may be no perfect solution. Calypso offers Odysseus comfort, beauty, and even immortality, but that comfort ultimately becomes another kind of captivity because it keeps him from the home he truly wants.

Even the Lotus-Eaters have a surprisingly powerful meaning. Forgetting your worries sounds wonderful—until you realize that forgetting your pain also means forgetting your purpose, your responsibilities, and where you were trying to go in the first place.

And then there is Penelope, waiting in Ithaca and weaving while Odysseus struggles to return. Her story has its own kind of strength. Patience, loyalty, intelligence, and endurance are every bit as important to the story as the battles and monsters.

Trying to Fit an Entire Epic Into One Poster

Once I started designing, I quickly realized I had created a problem for myself:

There is a LOT in The Odyssey.

I wanted this poster to feel almost like a visual retelling of the journey rather than focusing on a single scene. The Trojan Horse, Circe, the Cyclops, the Sirens, the sea monsters, the cattle, the ship, Penelope weaving, Ithaca, and so many other details started finding their way into the composition.

And somehow, even after filling nearly every available space, I know I’m still missing things.

That’s part of what I like about it.

I didn’t want the artwork to be something you understand completely in five seconds. I wanted your eye to travel around it, discovering one scene and then another. You might notice the Cyclops first, then follow the waves down to Odysseus’ ship, spot Penelope at her loom, notice the sacred cattle tucked into the landscape, and eventually arrive at Ithaca in the corner.

It’s the kind of piece you can stare at for a long time and continue finding something new.

Finding a Mediterranean Color Palette

Color was also really important to me.

I didn’t want this to be a bright, glossy fantasy illustration. I wanted it to feel older—as though it belonged somewhere between an ancient Greek fresco, a vintage travel poster, and a mid-century illustrated book.

I built the palette around muted Mediterranean colors: dusty terracotta, faded olive green, warm sand, aged cream, weathered blue-green, and deep charcoal. The colors are deliberately restrained so that all of the individual scenes can coexist without the poster becoming visually chaotic.

The Greek key border helps contain everything, almost like the edge of an ancient mosaic or decorated ceramic piece, while the softer, weathered colors give the artwork the feeling of something that has already lived a life.

That was exactly what I wanted for a story that has survived for thousands of years.

Discovering The Odyssey Through Art

This ended up being one of those projects where designing the artwork made me appreciate the subject even more.

I started with only a basic familiarity with The Odyssey. After seeing Nolan’s film twice, reading discussions, watching people break down the symbolism, and digging further into the characters and mythology, I began to understand why this story has lasted for so long.

At its core, it isn’t really just a story about monsters, gods, ships, and adventure.

It’s about trying to find your way home while the world—and sometimes your own weaknesses—keeps pulling you somewhere else.

And maybe that is why all of these strange creatures and impossible situations still feel surprisingly recognizable.

My hope is that this poster captures at least a little of that feeling: one enormous journey made up of dozens of smaller stories, symbols, mistakes, victories, temptations, and discoveries.

And if you find yourself standing in front of it for a while, following all those little details from one corner to another, then it did exactly what I wanted it to do.