Black line tattoo of an anatomical heart with contour-line detail, placed on the upper arm of a person in a black top.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Anatomical heart on upper arm

Fine line · Upper arm · Black and grey · Photo

A black ink tattoo of an anatomical heart with its vessels visible at the top, shown on the upper arm. The heart is built from fine, flowing contour lines that wrap around its chambers and suggest form through line density rather than solid fill. The design is rendered in black ink on pale skin against a plain, light background.

Fine line Upper arm Heart Anatomical heart Vessel

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Take it to an artist as a reference. A good artist will make it yours rather than copy someone else's tattoo.

A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Dear Ruth, the damp has got into the boarding house at last, so I am writing this at the window table with my gloves still on. Mr Aske came down to breakfast with a rolled chart under his arm and a face like wet slate, and I knew the survey was going badly before he said a word. The Admiralty men want the bank off Scarrow Point drawn to the foot, every fathom line pulled tight, and he has spent three weeks fighting a tide that will not keep still.

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Last Tuesday I stayed late in the back room with the old copper plates. You will laugh, but I started tracing the contour lines the way you showed me on your father's walking maps, where each ring is one step up the hill. The sea floor, when you press it flat, is much the same: a hundred thin rings stacked like grain in a board, bunching tight where the ground drops away. Aske found me at it and said nothing. He only pulled a stool across and began marking my spacing with his thumbnail until the lamp guttered.

Here is the strange part. This morning the fog lifted and we took the cutter out to Scarrow itself, and the rock there sits exactly as I had drawn it in the margin of my notebook, the thing I copied from the anatomy book in the reading room: a heart, every chamber wound about in lines so close they look like tide marks. Aske laid his palm flat on the wet stone and said the sea had been cutting it for ten thousand years, the way I had been drawing it for one afternoon.

Write soon. Tell Mother I am eating properly, which is not quite true.