Two matching fine line stick figure tattoos of women holding cameras, one on each forearm, drawn in black ink with small red details.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Matching stick figure tattoos on forearms

Fine line · Forearm · Mixed · Photo

Two forearms each show a simple stick figure of a woman holding a camera, joined to the figure by a thin line. The left figure wears a polka dot dress and the right wears a striped dress and has a ponytail. The linework is thin and black, with small red accents on the lips, and the figures are placed centrally on each arm against plain skin.

Fine line Forearm Stick figure Camera Woman Polka dot Line

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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

You find the camera in the bottom drawer of the dresser, wrapped in a tea towel that still smells of Brasso. It is a Kodak Brownie with a crack across the lens hood and a length of cord knotted through the strap, the sort the men once used to hang their lamps from. Nobody in Hollin Bank has owned a working camera since the colliery closed the pit head, so you carry it up the hill under your coat like something stolen.

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The picture you want is of your sister on the footbridge over the beck, but Maggie will not keep still. She has worn the polka-dot frock to every funeral and christening this year, and each time you lift the viewfinder she turns her face towards the slag heap as if it owes her money. You tug the cord to call her back. It goes taut between your wrist and the lens, and the shutter clicks anyway, because the old thing has ideas of its own.

The prints come back from the chemist in Barnsley mostly blur. Maggie is a smudge of spots against the grey water. But at the bottom edge, where the cord runs out of the frame, someone has written in pencil, in her round careful hand: Mine now.

You keep it in the tea towel. Some evenings you hold the cord up to the lamp until the knot goes gold, and you think about how the men used to say a miner was only ever as safe as the person holding the other end of his rope. You never did learn to take a steady picture. You only learned to keep hold.