Flash sheet of green Celtic knotwork designs, including a tree of life at the top and triquetra, triskele and endless knot motifs below.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Celtic knotwork flash sheet in greens

Colour · Flash

A green flash sheet showing a large Celtic tree of life at the top, with interlaced knotwork trunk, roots and spiral branches. Below are smaller knot designs, including a triquetra, a triskele, an endless knot and several square and circular interlace panels. The linework is clean and uniform, with each design shown in flat shades of green on a dark green background.

Tree of life Celtic knot Knotwork Triquetra Spiral Interlace

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The knotwork had been cut into the lintel by someone who never meant it to be seen from the road. Aunt Morag said so, and she had climbed to Carrick Hollow more times than the sheep had. I was nineteen that summer, sent up with a bucket of lime, a rubbing kit and orders not to touch anything until the county man came.

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The lintel was a single slab of grey sandstone, and the carving ran in ribbons: a tree whose roots curled back on themselves, three arcs locked into one another, a spiral spinning out from a centre like a dropped thread. I traced it in charcoal on tracing paper for a week. Every line ran over and under the next, and when I lost the start of one I followed it round until it came back to where I had been.

On the last evening the light came low through the empty window and turned the stone green with lichen. I noticed the carving was not one knot but many, each cut a little different, as if the mason had argued with himself and kept every argument. I drew the tree last, its branches falling into the spirals, and found the place where the lines met. It was not a flaw. It was only a place where the work had been finished twice.

Morag took the sheet down to the village and pinned it to the wall of the post office. Nobody asked where it came from. The county man wrote to say the lintel would stay as it was, and I kept the rubbing folded in my coat, the tree still growing upward on the paper where the stone could not follow me.