Fine line tattoo on the back of a wrist, showing a thin band, a dotted chain draped across it and a small outlined diamond pendant.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Fine line chain bracelet tattoo on wrist

Fine line · Other · Black and grey · Photo

A close photograph of the back of a wrist and hand with a fine line tattoo. A thin band encircles the wrist, with a dotted chain looping beneath it and a small outlined diamond hanging from the centre. The ink is dark and crisp against the pale skin, and the sepia tone of the photo keeps the composition simple and centred on the design.

Fine line Geometric Other Bracelet Chain Dot Diamond Outline Wrist

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

You are the only goldsmith near the harbour at Alexandria who can draw wire thin enough to hold a dot, so when the chandler's widow brings you a broken chain of seed-pearls and asks for it back before the feast of Isis, you do not argue about the price. You sit at the bench with the lamp turned low and count the beads again. Twenty-three where there were twenty-six. Three are somewhere in the dust under the bench, where the sweeper missed them.

Keep reading

The piece she wants is not heavy. A thin band of gold goes round the wrist once, and beneath it a looping string of tiny dots, each one soldered by hand, dips to a low point where a small hollow diamond hangs from a loop so it turns when the wearer moves. Your master used to say a good piece is one where the joins cannot be found. You spend four nights on the diamond alone, filing its corners until they are sharp enough to cut thread.

On the fifth morning the widow comes back before the gulls are up. She lifts the bracelet from the cloth without looking at it and asks whether the diamond will catch on a sleeve. You tell her no. She asks whether it will survive the crossing to Ostia, and you say you have never known gold to fail, only the people who wear it. She laughs, the first time you have heard her laugh, and pays you in old owl-stamped silver that no merchant in the city will take any more.

After she has gone you sweep the bench and find the three missing beads caught in the grooves of the wood. You hold them in your palm for a while. Then you thread them onto a scrap of cord and drop them into the drawer with the other broken things, because every workshop keeps a few pieces it has not finished.