Realistic colour tattoo on a lower leg showing a child's face, a man in a top hat and a green landscape scene with a child holding an apple.

Film scene portraits and landscape on a calf

Realism · Calf · Colour · Photo

The tattoo covers the lower leg with two realistic portraits, a child with light blonde hair at the top and a man in a brown top hat and coat beside them. Below, a painterly landscape shows a child in a blue jacket seated among greenery, with a mushroom and a few small coloured dots. Soft blended shading and a full colour palette give the piece a photographic, painted finish.

Realism Calf Portrait Child Man Top hat Landscape Apple Mushroom Forest

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

Dear Tom, the rain has finally stopped, so I can tell you about the Fenn boy who went up the forest path on Tuesday with a paper bag of pear drops and came back down at dusk with mud to his knees and a look on his face I haven't seen since your grandfather sold the cart. Nobody in Hartley Green would believe me if I told them where he'd been, so I'm telling you, and you can decide.

Keep reading

He says he came to the clearing past the mushroom ring, the one the charcoal burners always walk around. There was an old man there in a brown top hat, sitting on a stump as if he'd been waiting since the Harvest Fair. The old man had bees, and an apple tree bent low with fruit the colour of sealing wax, and a row of little coloured sweets laid out on the moss like buttons on a waistcoat. He offered the boy one. The boy took an apple instead, because he's sensible like that, and sat down in the grass to eat it.

The old man asked him a single question while he chewed. Did he want to go home, or did he want to stay where the sweets never ran out? The boy said home, and the old man laughed, not unkindly, and said the forest keeps the things it's given and the boy had given it a bag of pear drops, so he'd better mind his manners. Then the hat tipped, and the clearing was only trees.

He came down the lane with the paper bag still in his hand. When Mrs Fenn unrolled it, there were no sweets at all, only three smooth stones and a single apple seed. But the apple in his jacket pocket was still warm, and it's still in the windowsill, not a bite gone. Come home at Christmas and see it for yourself. Your loving mother, Ada.