Black and grey realistic rose and botanical vine tattoo running from the thigh down the outer leg towards the ankle.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Black rose and vine leg tattoo

Botanical · Thigh · Black and grey · Photo

A long botanical design of black roses, rosebuds, leaves and curling vines runs from the upper thigh down the outer leg and onto the foot. The roses are shaded in greys to give them depth, while the vines and leaves use bold, smooth black linework. The image is a close, straight-on photograph of a seated person, with the design filling most of the frame against a plain background.

Botanical Realism Thigh Calf Rose Rosebud Vine Leaves Swirl

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

Mind the gunwale, you'll have your shin off on that cleat. Now, the rose I'm telling you about grew on the Cressing flight, up beside the lock-keeper's cottage, where nobody had planted anything in forty years but nettles. Tom Harrow found it wrapped in wet sacking on the towpath one March morning. Black stems, thorns like fence wire, and a smell of wet pennies when he cracked the bark with his thumbnail.

Keep reading

He carried it to the barge Mabel Quill, where his aunt Nan Oddy kept her stove going day and night. She set it in an old tin bath on the cabin roof, and by June the vine had climbed the chimney, run down the gunwale and dipped its tip into the cut. The roses came out black as coal dust, grey in the folds of the petals, and they opened only after the lock gates had closed for the night. Nan said the vine was holding the bank together. The lock company men didn't believe her, so they came with shears.

They never got to cut it. Each night the vine crept a little further along the towpath toward the next lock, and one morning Tom walked the path and found the trail of it gone under the water, roots down into the silt, with a single rosebud floating on the surface like a lamp somebody had forgotten to blow out.

Nan just laughed and put the kettle on. 'Every rose on this cut, lad, is a step someone took off the path,' she said. 'Keep your boots on the stone and you'll be fine.' Tom never did learn whose step that bud belonged to, but when the boats go through at night, you can still see it down there, opening slow under the black water.