Fine line black clef tattoo on the side of a finger, with the hand held close to the mouth.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Clef tattoo on a finger

Fine line · Hand · Black and grey · Photo

A small clef-style ornament with a curled top and a few dots sits on the side of a finger, with the hand held close to the mouth. The linework is thin and mostly dark, with a slight blue tint in the lower curve. The shallow depth of field keeps the tattoo as the clear focal point against the soft pink and skin tones of the photo.

Fine line Hand Music Swirl Dot Finger

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

Mrs Pendle never let anyone near the upright in the front parlour of Gull's Rest, not since her husband went out after the herring and didn't come back to play it. So when the lodger from number six asked for a pencil and a bit of brown paper, she handed them over with her mouth set tight and told him the damp had got into the hammers.

Keep reading

He was a quiet man called Tobias Quill, or so the register said, and every night after the supper plates were cleared he sat at that piano and drew. Not music, mind. Curls. A swirl at the top like a fern uncoiling, a long tail dropping to the bottom, and beside it three small dots, which he said were for the three notes his mother used to hum while she scrubbed the step. Mrs Pendle watched through the crack in the door and thought him daft, right up until the night she heard the tune come out of the walls.

It was thin and far off, like someone calling from the other side of the bay. The sea had been loud all week and the lamps kept guttering, but the tune went on regardless. The next morning there was a damp smudge on the parlour rug in the shape of that swirl, with three dots pressed in beside it, as if a finger had been dipped in the tide and left to dry.

Tobias left on the Tuesday boat with one bag and no bill. Mrs Pendle never sold the upright. She oils the keys every spring now, and on wet evenings, when the wind lifts off the harbour, she sits down, lifts the lid, and llets the top note ring out to see who is still listening.