Black ink flash sheet of small hand-drawn designs including a leaf sprig, yin yang, candle, umbrella, lotus, sailboat, crown, smiley face and the words MOM, YES and love.

Hand-drawn small tattoo flash sheet

Fine line · Black and grey · Flash

A sheet of small, hand-drawn black ink tattoo designs on white paper, photographed with a shadow across the lower left. The designs are simple outlines with little or no shading, and include a leaf sprig, yin yang, candle, umbrella, lotus, sailboat, crown, sun, compass and a smiley face, arranged loosely across the page. The sheet is entirely black and grey, with no colour ink.

Fine line Leaf Yin yang Candle Umbrella Lotus Sailboat Crown Sun Compass Envelope Heart Moon Lip Eye Flower Shell Mom Love

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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

Mind the step, love, it's still wet from the mop, and keep away from that candle near the flour sacks. Sit yourself down. You want the story of the Pennick sisters and the envelope that came under the door, and I'll tell it while the first trays go in, because a loaf that's been talked over always tastes better.

Keep reading

The moon was still hanging over the breakwater like a clipped fingernail when Frances found the envelope on the mat. Nobody had stamped it. The address was written in careful, looping ink: MUM, and nothing else. Frances wanted to bin it, because who posts a letter to a bakery at four in the morning, but her sister Ada had already slit it open with a butter knife. Inside was a single sheet from a boy on a sailboat, somewhere past the Azores, saying the compass had turned him north and he was coming home with a question he'd been too shy to ask in person.

Ada read it twice, then took a pencil from behind her ear and wrote YES across the bottom in capitals, pressing hard enough to dent the paper. Frances shook her head, but she was already rolling out dough, and between them they made a batch of little lotus buns with a sugar crown set on each one, the way their mother used to do for weddings. When the sky went the colour of weak tea, Ada put one in a paper bag, folded the letter back into its envelope, and walked it down to the harbour herself.

The boat was tied up at the far end of the quay, sails furled, its tiny umbrella of a wheelhouse still dripping from the night's rain. A woman was already standing on the pier in her dressing gown, staring out at the water as though she'd been waiting all her life. Ada handed her the bag without a word. Ask me what happened next and I'll tell you, but first, lift that tray out for me, would you? The bread's ready.