Black lettering tattoo reading LOVE on the inner wrist, with the O replaced by a heart containing a wheelchair symbol.

Love lettering with wheelchair symbol heart on wrist

Lettering · Forearm · Black and grey · Photo

The tattoo spells the word LOVE in a simple, rounded sans-serif typeface, with the letter O replaced by an outlined heart that contains a wheelchair symbol. The linework is solid and even, in black ink with no shading. The lettering runs horizontally across the inner wrist, with the skin's surface and natural lighting visible around it.

Lettering Forearm Love Heart Lettering Word

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Dear Nell, the chandlery board is finished at last, and I didn't once paint the heart crooked, though Maud Pellow stood at my elbow for three days saying I had. She wanted LOVE across the shop front in rounded letters, with the O swapped for a heart holding the little wheelchair man from the car park signs, only softer. Her boy Tom has got about on one since the winter the Brenda Marie went onto the Scar, and he's the one who sits on the harbour wall every evening counting boats in.

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I did the outline first, in one unbroken line with a number three brush and black enamel, because she wouldn't have anything shaded. You can't fudge a stroke like that. The chair took two mornings: a dot for his head, one arm out to the rudder, and two plain rings for wheels that never touch the heart's edge. Maud kept bringing tea in a jam jar and not asking anything, which I liked.

Then Tom came up the slipway on a Thursday and stood in front of the board for a long time. He said the figure was facing the wrong way. It should face the sea, not the shop, because that's where he's always looking. I told him the stencil came from the council and I'd only copied it. He said, very politely, that the council had never once sat on the harbour wall.

So I scraped the heart and did it again with the chair turned toward the water. Maud cried a bit, the good sort. When I packed up, the gulls were fighting over a chip paper on the cobbles and the board caught the last of the sun, every letter dead black and even. Come down at Easter and see it. The tea's still in jam jars, I'm afraid.

Love, Jean