Colourful full arm sleeve tattoo on the upper arm and forearm, showing a prism with a rainbow beam, a screaming face above a brick wall and clouds, in a neo-traditional style.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Full arm sleeve with prism, brick wall and clouds

Neo-trad · Upper arm · Colour · Photo

The sleeve covers the upper arm and continues down the forearm, with a prism sending out a rainbow beam at the top and a large screaming face emerging from clouds in the centre. Below, a brick wall crumbles into a diagonal rise of rails and bricks, with a small outlined triangle near the bottom edge. The shading is smooth and bold, with saturated blues, reds, greens and purples against grey clouds and a dark background.

Neo-trad Upper arm Forearm Rainbow Cloud Star Triangle Sleeve

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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

Right, sit down, the lot of you, and stop pretending you don't remember the wall. Forty years we walked past that brick wall behind Ashcombe Road school, and not one of us ever climbed it, because Mr Tolley said the far side belonged to the sky. So when the council men came with their hammers that summer, the whole year turned out to watch, eating chips from paper cones.

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It was Dilys Parr who took the first brick out. She had a cut-glass prism from her grandad's cabinet, and she'd held it up to the sun all term so that rainbows lay across the desks like spilt paint. That afternoon she held it to the gap where the mortar had gone, and the light split into a beam that hit the grey clouds over the playing field. The foreman swore he saw a face in the cloud, mouth wide open, shouting at nobody. We all saw it. Mr Tolley came running out with his tie flapping, stopped dead, and said nothing at all.

Here's the part they never put in the school magazine. When the last course came down, there were old tram rails underneath, buried so long nobody remembered them, and they ran straight up the hill like a ladder. Dilys climbed them with a scrap of tin foil in her pocket and was gone the whole night. Her mother rang the police twice. At first light she came walking down again, pale and muddy, with a laugh in her throat.

What was on the far side, you ask? Well, more town, mostly. But she always said the view was better from the top, and she put the prism back in her coat. Over the field that morning, the face in the clouds had shut its mouth.