Colour tattoo of a purple galaxy-textured cartoon character with crossed arms and a yellow star, set in a gold frame, on the inner forearm.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Galaxy cartoon character on forearm

Neo-trad · Forearm · Colour · Photo

The tattoo shows a cartoon character with a scowling face and crossed arms, set against a purple, pink and blue galaxy background with small white stars. A yellow star sits above the head, and the figure is enclosed in a thick gold-outlined frame with a stepped, ornate shape. Bold black outlines and soft blended shading give it a bright, cartoon-like look, photographed on a wrist and forearm beneath a white sleeve.

Neo-trad Forearm Galaxy Star Cartoon character Frame

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Every autumn the boats of Skerrow went out past the Long Skerry with their lamps lit, and every autumn Tom Galley's mother said the sea held a grudge against them. She said it plainly, the way she said the tide was turning. Nobody argued, because nobody had ever seen the grudge. Then in the year the herring failed, a falling star came down into the bay with a hiss like a cooled kettle, and it settled in the shallows sitting cross-legged, arms folded, face screwed up in a scowl.

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It would not speak. The children brought it limpets and it turned its back on them. Agnes Corrie, who mended nets on the slip, said it was sulking because it had been dropped, and that a thing made of night and small lights did not care to be looked at in daylight. So that winter the fleet went out without a lamp on the Skerry, and three boats missed the harbour mouth in the fog and were found days later on the far shore. Agnes took a basket of mussels down to the rocks and sat beside the star until the dusk came in.

"You're cross because nobody's steering by you," she said. The star unfolded one arm, pointed at the yellow crown on its head, and folded the arm back again. On the next dark night Agnes climbed to the headland with a tin of lamp oil and a wick, and set the star on the rock where the boats could see it. It did not shine by itself. But when the wick caught, its crown flared gold and its body glowed purple and blue, like evening going down over water.

Every boat came home that night. The star stayed on the headland after, and the fishermen still say that when its scowl deepens the sea lies flat, and that nobody in Skerrow has ever seen it smile. Agnes is buried above the harbour now. The star keeps its arms folded over the bay, watching for the lamps.