Black and grey Japanese style tattoo of a geisha with a parasol on a woman's upper back, photographed from behind.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Geisha with parasol on upper back

Japanese · Back · Black and grey · Photo

A woman is photographed from behind with her hair in an updo, showing a tattoo of a geisha in a patterned kimono on her upper back. A large open parasol with radiating ribs sits behind the figure. The work is in black ink and grey shading, with defined outlines and soft tonal fills across the kimono and parasol.

Japanese Back Geisha Kimono Woman Updo

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Dear Ada, the rain has not let up since Tuesday and the tips above Cwm Dulais are steaming like a kettle. Mr Hirano finally finished the parasol for the chapel bazaar. He painted it on our kitchen table with ink he ground himself in a saucer, black as the dust that gets into everything here, and he would not let anyone touch the ribs while he worked. He counted them under his breath in Japanese, thirty-two of them, and Mrs Pryce said that was heathen nonsense until she saw him count her Dai's shift number too.

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The woman he drew is standing in a kimono printed with little clouds, her hair pinned up with one flower, her face turned half away as if someone has just called her name from the far end of a street. He shaded the sleeves with a wash so thin you would swear the cloth was moving. Mam said the face looked sad, and he said it was only tired, which I thought was a kinder answer than I would have given. When it was dry he wrapped the parasol in brown paper and left it on the chapel step, with a note in careful English asking that it go to whoever opened the door first in the wet.

It was Joseph Lewis who found it, and he carried it home under his coat like a stolen cat. This morning he brought it round to show Mam, and before anyone could stop him he opened it in the middle of the front room. Mam says opening an umbrella indoors is bad luck. The whole room went dim and quiet under those black ribs, the lamp light caught on the grey wash, and nobody said a word. Then the kettle started to sing in the scullery, and Joseph laughed and said he supposed the rain had finally come to us instead.