Black and grey dotwork tattoo on the forearm showing an anatomical heart above an oval window with a night bedroom scene, with a sleeping animal on the bed.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Anatomical heart with sleeping bedroom scene

Dotwork · Forearm · Black and grey · Photo

An anatomical heart sits above an oval window framed by a stippled border, and inside the window is a bedroom with a lit window showing a moon and stars, a lamp and a sleeping animal on a bed. The shading is built from dense dots and fine hatched lines, with bold outlines around the heart and frame. The design is entirely black and grey and is shown centred on the outer forearm against a plain background.

Dotwork Forearm Heart Window Moon Star Bed

Find an artist for this

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

The cat had taken the warm side of the bed again, so Bertha Fenwick slept on the cold edge with her knees drawn up and listened to the wind working at the sash. Her husband had fitted that window himself the spring before the Margaret Ann sailed, a square of old glass with a chip in one corner, and every night since she had watched the moon come through it and lay its pale shape across the blanket like a dropped handkerchief.

Keep reading

The doctor who called after the funeral had left a plaster heart on the mantelpiece, painted the colour of liver, its great vessels snapped off clean at the top. "For the boy's studies," he had said, though the boy was thirty and had never once asked about anatomy. Bertha had set a candle inside it one winter to see how the light would fall. Afterwards she kept the heart turned to the wall, the way you might turn a photograph of someone you were cross with.

On the Thursday the lamp would not light, and the bedroom went dark for the first time in months. She lay listening for the cat and heard instead a low tick, then another, coming from the mantelpiece. Her hand found the cold edge of the plaster and pressed. Something inside it had begun to move, slow and stubborn, like a clock wound a long way down.

She got up in her stockings, lifted the heart down, and carried it to the window. Through the chipped corner of the glass she could see the Tyne, black and wide, and a small lit boat coming up on the flood. Bertha tucked the heart under one arm, climbed onto the sill, and waited for the cat to follow her out.