Enlarged with AI from a smaller original
Eye in triangle tattoos, dotwork and neo-trad
Dotwork · Forearm · Mixed · Photo
The left photo shows a black and grey eye set inside a triangle, with fine radiating rays behind it and an ornate scrolled frame, built up with stippled dotwork shading. The right photo shows a colour eye with a blue iris wrapped in a ribbon-like band, framed by a teal and yellow flower and dark leaves, with bold outlines on the forearm. A hand and a ring are visible at the lower edge of the right image.
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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction
The theodolite froze in the first hard frost of October, so the office sent me up to Gallow Notch alone with a flask, a tin of sandwiches and a box of bolts. Nobody could say who had cut the eye into the trig pillar. The ledger only noted that it had been there since the 1911 survey and was not to be scrubbed off when the bolts were repainted.
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I reached the top at noon, once the cloud had lifted off the scree. The triangle sat square to the four winds, its rays fanned out behind it like the spokes of a cartwheel, and the eye inside looked down the valley towards Tanybwlch as though it expected a late carrier. I set the tripod in the pillar's shadow and sighted along one of the rays. It ran dead true to the ruined farmhouse at Bryn Coch, the place where the Pryce brothers had gone out in the snow the winter my grandmother was a girl and never come down.
In the back of the old field book, in pencil gone silver with age, someone had written: Bearing to the Pryce gate. Sight it every spring. Keep the line open. I had taken the book for a dull inventory of bolts. I read the note twice, then sat on the cold step of the pillar and understood that the rays were not decoration. Each one was a way down, and the eye had been holding them steady for over a century for anyone caught out on the tops.
I did not scrub it. I packed the bolts, left the sandwiches on the step for whoever climbed up next, and started down the line the eye had been pointing at all along.
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