Woman seen from behind holding an antelope skull, with a gold and silver metallic arrow and triangle design on her upper arm.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Metallic arrow temporary tattoo on upper arm

Geometric · Upper arm · Colour · Photo

A woman seen from behind holds a horned antelope skull painted in gold on a beach. On her upper arm is a vertical column of metallic gold and silver arrows and triangles, which appears to be a temporary tattoo rather than ink. The shapes are bold and geometric with solid fills, and the bright metallic tones stand out against her tanned skin and the pale sand and sky.

Geometric Upper arm Arrow Triangle Beach

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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

The mine at Scarrow Bottom had swallowed four men by the time Ada Penhale went up the slope with a pot of gold paint and a bundle of tin arrows her father had hammered flat over the winter. Nobody had asked her to. The shaft captain said the ground was talking, and when ground talks, the villagers said, you give it something to point at.

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She cut the arrows from the lids of old ration tins and pinned them to the slate with copper wire. Each arrow pointed back down the valley, toward the chapel and the pump house and the cottages where the widows sat with their shutters open. Where the arrows crossed she set triangles, sharp as the peaks, and she painted the tips gold so the lamplight would catch them in the dark. Her mother had told her that the horned animal whose skull hung over the chapel door once led the herds to water in drought years, and that the men prayed to its bones when the roof came down.

On the seventh night the rain stopped and the valley went quiet. Ada climbed to the adit mouth with the last of the paint and a lantern, and she lifted it high above the shaft, the way you would show a child where the stile was. Far below, a pick knocked three times, then twice, then once. The men were following her marks. They came up through the wet black rock with grey faces, blinking at the light, and each one touched the gold on the post before he went home.

Ada never painted another marker. She said it had done its job, and that a path is only good while someone is willing to keep pointing it out.