Flash sheet of twelve botanical flower designs in colour and black line, including roses, peonies, daisies and cherry blossom, on a white background.

Grid of twelve floral tattoo designs

Botanical · Mixed · Flash

A grid of twelve flower designs on a plain white background, arranged in four rows of three. The blooms include roses, peonies, tulips, daisies, cherry blossom sprigs and forget-me-nots, with some drawn in colour and two in black linework. The colour versions use soft shading and gradients, while the black designs use fine, detailed line work.

Botanical Flower Rose Peony Tulip Daisy Cherry blossom Forget-me-not Bouquet Leaves Flash sheet

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Tobiah Fenn kept the pattern book in an oilcloth sack under his bunk, and every flower in it was a promise he had made to someone on shore. The blue chrysanthemums were for his mother in Penzance, who grew them against the cottage wall. The white bloom with the yellow heart was for Ada Lowe, who had poured him a last glass of ale and pressed a sprig of forget-me-not into his palm before the Marigold sailed in the autumn of the great storm.

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By the fortieth day out from Valparaíso the book had gone soft as bread, and the ink on the tulip had bled into the margin. The cook asked him what the pictures were for. Tobiah said they were for people who would not wait. He did not say that the roses had been drawn by a man in Bristol who never left his bench, or that he had copied the peonies from a shawl his father had brought back from Canton and never once unfolded.

At every landfall the captain signed a page, so the wages could be paid against it. Tobiah tore out one sheet a port, a picture for a debt, and gave each away with a plain word. The bouquet went to a widow in Lisbon. The cherry sprigs went to a boy who had lost his boots in the Plate. By Cape Horn there was only one leaf left, the twelve-flower sheet with its border chewed by damp.

He came up the Helford river in April with the sheet folded in his coat. Ada was on the quay with a basket of cut daisies and no lamp. He unfolded the page and she laughed at the forget-me-nots, which were the only blooms he had drawn himself, badly, from memory. She took the paper, read his handwriting in the corner, and pinned it to the wall above the door, where the salt air could not reach it.