Colour tattoo of a shaded face and a small astronaut within angular geometric panels, placed on the upper thigh.

Face and astronaut panels on a thigh

Geometric · Upper arm · Colour · Photo

The tattoo shows a shaded face gazing upward, set inside angular panels with small star accents and a tiny astronaut figure. Smooth shading and clean outlines define the face, while the lower panels use flatter blocks of colour. Red, orange, yellow and blue ink dominate against black, and the design fills the thigh in a central, vertical composition.

Geometric Realism Upper arm Face Astronaut Star Sphere

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Sit closer, the lamp is nearly out, and I will tell it the way Brother Anselm told it to me, though he always swore the ending was different on other nights. Up on the north ridge, above the bell house, the ash lies grey as porridge, and every spring the brothers dug it from the bean terraces. The winter the mountain went red, Anselm found a metal man lying in the ash. His visor was dark glass, and behind it was a face like ours, turned upward, as if somebody had told it to wait.

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He carried the man down on a handcart and laid him in the cloister, where the morning sun could reach him. The lava was still walking down the valley that year, slow and orange, cracking the walls of the lower village, and the old men said the stars were falling into the sea. Anselm did not argue. Each evening he set a stone lamp beside the metal man and watched the small figure folded inside the glass, a fellow no bigger than a thumb, drifting in a blue silence the monks could not imagine.

Young Tomas, who feared nothing except lentil soup, asked why the man never blinked. Anselm said he was only looking for the others who had gone up and not come down. On the last night of that winter, Tomas climbed the ridge alone with the bell cord in his pocket. The clouds tore open, and a red moon rose over the crater, round and cracked like a cooling loaf. Tomas rang the little bell three times. Far above, something bright turned slowly, and he swore, all his long life, that it turned back.