Close-up of a fine line black infinity symbol with the word love in script inside it, on the side of a torso above a grey waistband.

Love infinity symbol on the side torso

Fine line · Other · Black and grey · Photo

The photo shows a single infinity symbol with the word love written in flowing script inside its loop, placed on bare skin above the waistband of grey sweatpants. The linework is thin and even, with solid black ink and no shading. The tattoo sits centrally in the frame against a plain, warm-toned skin background, with a white top and a red tool chest partly visible behind.

Fine line Lettering Other Infinity Love Script

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Dear Mrs Okafor,

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You asked me last spring why I still practise the loop before I touch the glass, and I told you it was for steadiness. That was only half true. The other half is the figure eight lying on its side, the one the old Bristol signwriters called the lazy eight, and how you never lift the brush from it if you can help it. Start at the crossing, go round, come back to the crossing, and you have drawn something with no place to stop.

Last Tuesday I lettered the new sign for the launderette on Dean Street. When the gold leaf was down, I wrote the word inside the loop of a single lemniscate, the way my grandfather did on the bakery window in 1961. Mr Pryce had asked for something that says we are staying. I gave him the sweep of the infinity sign with LOVE riding across its middle in a joined hand, thin as a hair, no shadow, nothing to hide behind. He stood on the pavement with his arms folded and said it was too much for a launderette. Then he said his wife would like it.

Here is the thing I have not told anyone. My hand shook on the final stroke of the e, the one that returns to the crossing. I thought I had spoilt it. But the line came out closing exactly where it had started, which is the only thing a loop is for, and I stood there a long while with the brush dripping, pleased and foolish.

I am posting you a photograph of it, and a tin of the old sable brushes you always said I was too careless with. Come and see the window before the rain gets to it.

Yours in gold, Tom