Realistic camera tattoo with orange, blue and purple watercolour splashes, placed on the forearm.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Camera with watercolour splashes on a forearm

Realism · Forearm · Mixed · Photo

A detailed single-lens reflex camera with the brand name visible on the top plate, rendered in shaded black and grey with bright highlights on the lens. Loose orange, blue and purple splashes surround the camera, giving a watercolour effect. The design is centred on the forearm against a light, textured background.

Realism Forearm Camera Lens Splash Watercolour

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 step, it's worn hollow where a hundred years of boots have gone up it. Sit by the lamp and I'll tell it while the oil's still warm. Your great-aunt Maud kept this light the winter the Harriet Ann went onto the Skerries, and she had a camera nobody on this coast had ever seen. Black body, a lens as wide as a saucer, and the maker's name stamped across the top plate in letters you could read from the rocks.

Keep reading

She'd bought it off a travelling salesman with the money meant for new wicks, and the mainland men laughed at her for it. She pointed it at gulls, at the weed line, at the great lens itself. Her trick was to wait until the beam swung round and caught the spray just so, so the whole sea went up in orange and violet in the frame like paint spilt on water. The keeper's wife at Ness said it was a sin to waste good glass on puddles.

That February the fog came in thick as wool. The Harriet Ann was out there somewhere, and the foghorn was no use against that wall of grey. Maud climbed to the gallery with the camera on its strap, set it on the iron rail, and held the shutter open for a slow count of thirty while the lamp breathed over her. When the fog thinned at dawn, the picture she'd made showed a ring of light with a small dark boat in its centre, sharp as a pin, heading home the way no one had seen her sail.

The print is still in the drawer under the tide tables, if you've the nerve to look. Put the kettle on while you do. I'll sit here and keep watch.