Pencil sketch of a circle with a horizontal line, a small inner circle, a swirl above and rays either side, with the quote I am flowing with creativity beneath, drawn on lined paper.

Circle with swirl and rays sketch

Black and grey · Flash

A pencil sketch on lined notebook paper shows a large circle crossed by a horizontal line, with a small circle and a vertical stem in the centre and a spiral swirl rising from the top. Radiating rays extend out to each side, and a handwritten quote reads I am flowing with creativity underneath. The linework is loose and shaded with grey graphite, and the composition is centred with the quote below the drawing.

Circle Swirl Ray Sketch Quote

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The wind off the fen swung the awning flap, and the furnace leaned toward Mira like a dog wanting to be let out. Her uncle had warned her about the draught. He had warned her about most things, usually from the cab of the van with a flask of stewed tea balanced on his knee, and she had stopped listening somewhere past Ely.

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The gather glowed the colour of marmalade. She turned the blowpipe slowly, the way he had taught her, and breathed into it. A thin grey thread went out past the lamps and climbed into the dark above the Waltzer, curling and unspooling. The fairground organ wheezed through a polka that had been old when her mother was young. Somebody on the rides shrieked with delight. Mira kept turning, and the bulb of glass swelled, and she felt the old knack rise in her wrists, the one that said stop now. She did not stop.

A boy with a sticky face pushed to the front of the crowd and asked if it was going to be a bird. She didn't know. The glass seemed to want to be a round thing with a stalk, a lamp, a float for a net, a bowl. She laid it on the marver and rolled it, and it dimpled under her thumb into a shallow cup with a hollow pressed in its base, and a thin tail of glass fell away from it like a dropped ribbon.

At dawn the stalls came down and she packed the cup in a wool sock and wedged it into the glovebox of the van. The first sun came flat across the fen and found it, and a single bright ray slid across the dashboard and rested on the masking tape where she had written the day's date. Her uncle would have called it wonky. She thought it looked like it had been waiting to be found.