Enlarged with AI from a smaller original
Merged female faces with third eye and sunburst
Forearm · Black and grey · Photo
The design shows two female faces in profile and three-quarter view, overlapping and mirrored, with a single eye drawn in the centre of the forehead. A starburst sun with spiral scrolls sits beneath the faces, and hair is rendered as fine parallel lines with a blunt fringe. The work is in solid black outline with no shading or colour, and the three panels show the same design from slightly different angles.
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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction
The plate came out of the fixing bath with two sisters on it, one laid over the other like hands pressed palm to palm, and Nell had to tilt it toward the window before she could tell which of them was looking back at her. The third eye was the worst of it. It sat in the centre of a forehead that belonged to neither woman, a clean dark pupil where the emulsion had blistered, and Nell wiped at it with her thumb in case it was only dust.
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It was not dust. The Gow sisters had sat for the portrait in the spring of 1911, the week before the steamer stopped calling at Ardnish, and Nell had made the exposure herself with the lens cap off for a good deal longer than she should have. Ruth had wanted a picture to send to Glasgow. Elspeth had wanted the sun in it. So they had turned their faces towards the bay, where the light came off the water in spikes, and Nell had counted to thirty while the two of them tried not to laugh.
She tried to make a second copy that afternoon. The sun was high and hard, throwing its starburst across the darkroom floor whenever she opened the door, and every print she pulled came out with the sisters sliding closer until their profiles met in the middle and their fringes merged into one dark hedge of hair. Ruth had come in once, years back, and stood where Nell was standing, and said, Leave it be, Nell, it is the only honest picture of us there is.
Nell pinned the spoiled print to the harbour noticeboard with the rest of the lost-property notices. By evening the wind had got under it and turned it over, so the sun was on top and the faces underneath, and the ferry skipper, reading the timetable, stopped to look at it for a long time before he said he could not tell who was who anymore.
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