Black fine line tattoo on the inner upper arm showing an infinity symbol with leaves, flowers and the script words I cannot tell you how thankful I am for our little infinity.

Infinity symbol with script quote on upper arm

Fine line · Upper arm · Black and grey · Photo

The tattoo sits on the inner upper arm and forms an infinity symbol with curling flourishes, small leaves and two flower motifs at the ends. The script lettering runs across the centre of the symbol in a thin, even black line. The ink is black only, with fine linework and no shading, photographed against a plain wall and an open door.

Fine line Lettering Upper arm Infinity Script Quote Leaves Flower Swirl

Find an artist for this

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

The lambing shed smelled of iodine and wet straw, and Huw had gone for the lamp when the ewe started straining again. I knelt in the bedding with my sleeves rolled past the elbow, counting the feet that came out first. Two forelegs, two heads, both caught in the same slippery sac. My father would have called it a fankle, a knot that ties itself. I had never seen one come right.

Keep reading

We got them both out before the lamp was lit. The first was limp, and I rubbed it with straw until it sneezed. The second stood up on wobbling legs as if it had been waiting for its cue. Huw came back with a flask and a face like thunder, saw the pair of them steaming in the corner, and sat down in the muck without a word. The wind rattled the tin roof. Somewhere below the yard a tractor coughed and died.

In the morning I wrote the note I had been putting off for three winters, the one to the vet from Llandrindod who had come out on Christmas Eve and never sent a bill. I wrote it on the back of a feed invoice with the stub of a carpenter's pencil. I could not tell him how thankful I was, so I wrote that, then crossed it out, then wrote it again because it was true. I pinned it to the shed door beside the calving chart.

Huw read it over my shoulder at dusk. He rubbed out the chalk that said the twins were unnamed, wrote the same name twice, and drew a line between them that curved back on itself and never quite found its start.