Black and grey realism roses running from the shoulder down the upper arm, with a small line of script above them.

Black and grey roses and script on a shoulder

Realism · Shoulder · Black and grey · Photo

A close photograph of a woman's shoulder and upper arm, with her blonde hair falling to one side and a black lace top at the collarbone. Large roses in black and grey shading, with soft tonal gradients and detailed petals, climb from the shoulder down the upper arm, with leaves between the blooms. A small line of cursive script sits above the upper rose, and the warm, dim lighting gives the skin a soft, low-contrast look.

Realism Botanical Shoulder Upper arm Rose Leaves Script

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

Dear Ruth,

Keep reading

The rain has been coming sideways across the Cattle Market since six, and I have sold three bunches of carnations and one sorry tulip, which means the roses have to go somewhere. You know the ones I mean: the grey-black blooms Mr Okonedo grows in his glasshouse past the bypass, with petals like folded letters. Nobody buys black roses in the rain. They buy red for Valentine's and yellow for funerals, and the grey ones just sit in the bucket looking as if they were left out overnight.

Yesterday a young woman came to the stall with a paper cone of coins and asked for one that wouldn't wilt by Friday. I told her nothing in a market lasts that long, but I gave her the fullest bloom I had, wrapped in newspaper because the cellophane had gone soft. She didn't say thank you. She said, "He always said I couldn't keep anything alive," laughed at herself, and walked off into the wet with the rose held against her shoulder like a child who has fallen asleep.

She came back the next Saturday, rain again, with the same rose in a jam jar. The petals had gone the colour of old pewter, but they were still holding. She wanted another for the empty half of the bucket, and asked for one with the leaves still on. Mr Okonedo says the grey ones only look grey because they've been looked at too long. I don't know about that. I know she paid in exact change and left the jar on my table.

Keep it for me, will you, when you come on Thursday? I've told her I'll have the next one ready.