Black line flower of life pattern wrapped around the wrist in a geometric style, on the forearm near the wrist.

Flower of life band on a wrist

Geometric · Forearm · Black and grey · Photo

A hand with a wide band of black overlapping circles, the flower of life pattern, wrapped around the wrist and bordered by a single solid line at its lower edge. The linework is fine and even, with no shading or fill, so the pattern reads as a crisp outline against the skin. The image is a close, evenly lit shot on a plain white wall, with the fingers hanging down and black nail polish on the fingertips.

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Uncle Dennis had one rule about compasses: the point never moved until the pencil had walked the whole ring. He kept his in a tobacco tin on the draughting table at Hallgarth Colliery, and on wet Saturdays he let me sit on the stool and watch him lay out patterns for the lamp room. Set the radius, plant the point on the rim, swing. Then do it again from wherever the first arc crossed.

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'Every centre sits on the edge of six others,' he said, tapping the paper with the steel tip. 'That's the whole trick. Don't rush it and don't let the lead drift.' My father came in off the back shift smelling of coal dust and sat on the bench with his boots still on, watching our hands. He never talked about the face. He only said the circles stacked up into something that held together, and that was enough for him.

The winter the cage stopped for a fortnight after the flood, Dennis drew the whole pattern again in carpenter's pencil on the lamp room wall, one arc at a time, while the men waited to hear whether they still had work. I held the chalk line steady. When the last circle met the bottom border he stood back with his hands in his pockets for a long while.

'Takes a lifetime to rub out,' he said, and went to find the kettle. The lines are still there under three coats of distemper, I'm told, and the men who work the new shaft say the wall looks like a pattern for lace. I think of the tin on the draughting table, and how nothing in it ever needed to be lifted off the paper to be finished.

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