Colour neo-traditional tattoo of a gold anchor with a jewelled heart, purple bow and pink cherry blossoms on a forearm.

Jewelled anchor with bow and blossoms on a forearm

Neo-trad · Forearm · Colour · Photo

A gold anchor sits at the centre of the design, with a faceted turquoise and purple heart gem at its top, a purple bow behind it and a dotted line hanging from its base ending in a small teal heart. Pink cherry blossoms and teal sparkles fill the space around the anchor, with a few falling petals. Bold black outlines define the shapes, and the shading is soft and glowing, with bright colour used throughout.

Neo-trad Botanical Forearm Anchor Heart Gem Bow Cherry blossom Sparkle Petal

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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

The generator coughs twice before the bulbs catch, and you are already late for the prize hut. Mrs Okonedo keeps its padlock on until the dodgems have gone quiet, and tonight the wind off the sea has blown cherry blossom from the orchard behind the car park across the tarmac, pale petals stuck to the wet ground like sequins somebody dropped.

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Inside, the shelves hold stuffed rabbits, plastic goldfish in bags and one glass case where the good prize sits: a brass anchor on a velvet cushion, its crossbar tied with a bow of plum-coloured silk and a heart cut from a stone that throws violet and teal across the canvas. Mrs Okonedo never sells it. She says it came off a ship that never docked, and that the heart chooses whoever asks for it twice. You asked once on Tuesday, and she only laughed into her tea.

Tonight she is waiting with the keys in her cardigan pocket and the cup gone cold. "Twice, love," she says, and nods at the case. You ask. She lifts the lid, and the stone warms under your fingers like something alive, and a dotted chain uncoils from the anchor's base, ending in a small teal heart that knocks softly against the glass.

Outside, the last carousel horse slows and stops. You fasten the chain at your wrist and walk back across the field, and when you glance over your shoulder the petals on the tarmac have lifted, drifting after you one by one toward the lights.