Black ink anchor entwined with an infinity symbol and a small heart, above the script words Love anchors the soul, tattooed on the upper back.

Anchor and infinity with script on upper back

Lettering · Back · Black and grey · Photo

A tattoo of an anchor threaded through an infinity symbol, with a small outlined heart above the loop on the right. The script words Love anchors the soul run beneath the design, ending in a small heart. The linework is bold and black, with simple outlines and no shading or colour, and the design is centred on the upper back.

Lettering Back Anchor Infinity Heart Script Quote

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 anchor came up out of the garden bed the week after the gale, bent at the shank and furred with orange rust, and Father would not let me drag it to the bins. He stood it against the wash-house wall and went back to his tea. Mother said it had been down there since Harbour View was a fishing shed, that the Pascoes had buried it when the coastguard came asking after salvage. I did not believe her, but I did like the look of it.

Keep reading

By October the lodgers had got hold of the story and wanted to hang things on it. Mr Lowry, who took the front room every summer and never once paid for breakfast on time, reckoned it was a mooring from the Iron Maid, a barque that went down off the Gull Rock with her whole crew. Miss Ffrench from number four thought the chain Father had looped round the stock was a sign. She traced the coil with one gloved finger and said it was a figure eight lying on its side, the mark for forever. Father said it was a length of chain rusted into a knot, and he would prove it if anyone cared to lift it.

Nobody lifted it. The chain stayed where it was, threaded through the ring like a question nobody wanted to answer. In November, when the boarders had gone home and the house was quiet enough to hear the pier bell, I went out with a jam jar of paraffin and a wire brush and scrubbed a patch of rust off the crown. Under it a word had been stamped into the iron, worn almost smooth: LOVE. I sat on the cold step for an hour with the brush in my lap, and the tide came up over the slipway and took the rest of the afternoon, one slow wave after another.