Colourful Tetris pieces fall down the inner forearm and stack into a pile at the wrist, in a geometric style with dark outlines.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Falling Tetris blocks on a forearm

Geometric · Forearm · Colour · Photo

The tattoo shows multicoloured Tetris pieces scattered down the forearm, with a stacked pile of blocks filling the lower part near the wrist. The blocks are flat, solid shapes with dark outlines and no shading, in blue, red, orange, yellow, green, purple and light blue. The person's torso and legs are visible in the background, but no face is shown.

Geometric Forearm Video game

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

Mum always said I'd never pack a van properly, and on the Hendry job I nearly proved her right. Three-bed semi on Clayton Road, a piano nobody had measured, and by half eight the lounge was a jigsaw of sofa, wardrobe and a tea chest of crockery Mrs Hendry had made me promise not to tilt. Dev reckons the trick is seeing the shapes before you lift them. I reckon it's just being too stubborn to leave a gap.

Keep reading

The pieces keep coming whether you're ready or not. A long wardrobe lands flat along the van wall, the bed frame turns on its side and wedges under the banister, and the small boxes slot into every hole as if they were waiting for them. Mrs Hendry stood at the bottom of the stairs with her clipboard, counting twice, certain something would be missing. I told her it would all fit. She didn't believe me until the last lamp went in through the back of the van at ten past five.

Then a single leg of the dining table turned up in the hall, wrapped in a bedsheet and forgotten. There was no room left. I stood there with it under my arm, the van doors open, the street going orange, and I saw the gap I'd been trying not to see all day. You can't make everything fit by holding on tighter. You have to take one thing out, and then the rest drops neatly into place.

I left the leg on the mat with a note saying it would follow on Thursday, and Mrs Hendry signed the form without a word. Driving home, I could still feel the shapes falling past the windscreen, each one clicking into the next, and I caught myself humming the tune from my nephew's old game all the way up the M62.