Colour tattoo across the chest showing a green and blue landscape in a circle, a tree, layered rock strata and a crystal cluster, with fine constellation lines.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Landscape, crystal and constellation on chest

Botanical · Chest · Mixed · Photo

The tattoo shows a circular landscape with a tree and rolling green and blue hills, set above layered rock strata that run across the chest. A crystal cluster sits in a dotted circle below, and fine black constellation lines and root-like marks extend from the rock edges. Bold colour is used for the landscape and crystals, with black linework and grey shading for the rock and roots.

Botanical Geometric Chest Landscape Tree Crystal Constellation Mountain Root Circle

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Shift yourselves along the step and mind the pram, the lift's been broken since Tuesday. Right. You want the story of the round window at the top of Ferndale House? Then listen, because I'm only telling it once before the streetlights come on.

Keep reading

Before the bricks went up, there was a hill here with a green dress on it, and a tree growing out of its crown like a bad haircut. The hill had a secret, which was that it wasn't really a hill at all but the top of a mountain that had sunk into the sea and kept its shape down there. Under the boiler room, if you have the nerve to go down with the caretaker's torch, the rock still shows its stripes, red and grey and cream, the way a cake shows its layers. Dorothy Quill swore she saw a cluster of crystals in the cellar wall, yellow at the tips and purple at the roots, glowing like a sweet in a dark pocket.

Dorothy was nine when the council man came with his measuring wheel and wanted the hill flattened for the flats. She climbed to the roof with a tin of chalk and drew the night sky onto the tar, joining the stars with lines so the men would have to read them before they could knock anything down. Nobody read them. But the next spring a sapling came up through the drain grate on the north side, and its roots went down through every floor, through the strata, and into the crystal, which is why the lift cables sing when it rains.

So when you hear the pipes knocking at night, that's not the water. That's the hill, turning over in its sleep, and the little tree pushing its fingers down the lift shaft to see who's still awake. Go on home now. Mind the pram on the way down.