Two shoulder tattoos side by side: a grey-shaded daisy beside the script words You are my sunshine, and a colour sunflower beside the script words My only sunshine, both in fine lettering.

Daisy and sunflower script tattoos on the shoulder

Lettering · Shoulder · Mixed · Photo

The top photograph shows a black and grey daisy with soft shading on the petals, with the script phrase You are my sunshine running from its centre towards the shoulder. The lower photograph shows a coloured sunflower with yellow petals and a green and brown centre, beside the script phrase My only sunshine. Both compositions place a floral motif on the upper shoulder with lettering across the skin, shot close up on plain skin.

Lettering Botanical Shoulder Daisy Sunflower Script Lettering Flower Shoulder

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

Mags counted the buckets under the arch lamps the way her mother had taught her, touching each rim so none went missing. Four daisies were left, their heads bruised from the van, and one crate of sunflowers that had opened too fast in the heat. Sol was supposed to be loading the car, but he had his phone propped on the bonnet and was reading aloud in the voice he thought she couldn't hear.

Keep reading

"Listen to this," he said. "Two stalls, one pitch, a dispute over whether a daisy can be sunshine."

She told him the daisy had never claimed anything. It stood there white and patient in the dark, waiting for the morning to decide for it. The sunflower was the show-off, always turning its face to whichever lamp was brightest, which was why nobody trusted it in February. Sol said that was unfair, and she said that was the point of having a grandson, to be told he was wrong before breakfast.

At six a man in a paper-thin raincoat came round the corner asking for two stems, one of each, and said he was writing something on a card for someone who had been very low all winter. Mags wrapped the daisy first, then the sunflower, in yesterday's newspaper, folding the corners the way you would for a gift that had to survive a bus journey. She didn't ask what he was going to write. Sol had already taken a marker from his apron and was drawing a thin, looping line across the back of a seed packet, the daisy at one end and the sunflower at the other, with the words underneath in the order the light had arrived that morning.