Black ink lettering reading mind above a horizontal line and matter below, tattooed on the inner wrist of a raised hand.

Mind over matter wrist lettering

Lettering · Forearm · Black and grey · Photo

Black ink sans-serif lettering reads mind above a horizontal line and matter below, set out like a fraction. The letters have clean, even linework with solid fill, and the tattoo sits on the inner wrist. The hand and dark nail polish are in focus, while the background is dark and softly blurred.

Lettering Forearm Word Text

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Dad counted everything in fractions. At the Palais on a Saturday a waltz was three quarters of a turn, a quickstep a half, and the interval between sets the only whole thing he trusted. He wrote the sums in chalk on the cloakroom board, one number over another, and told me the bottom one was the part you had to carry.

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The summer the Leeds band came down, the bottom number went wrong. Stan, who had played double bass since before the war, sat at the edge of the floor with a stiff hip and a glass of lemonade he never drank. Dad wanted him back on the stand by eight. "Mind over matter, Stan," he said, tapping his own temple. Stan looked at his knee the way you'd look at a dog that had bitten you. "Mind's the top, Frank. Matter's the bottom. Nobody tells you which one's doing the lifting."

I went to fetch a chair and found myself at the foot of the stage, where the rosin dust hung gold under the lamps. The band was tuning up. I was twenty-one and had never once been asked to dance by anyone who wasn't one of Dad's customers. I held out my hand to Stan. He stood on one leg, then the other, and we went round the floor at half a turn a bar, him leaning on me, his bass propped against the cloakroom door. Nobody complained. The couples drifted aside to let us by.

At the interval Dad came out with the chalk. He stood in front of the board for a long time, then wrote one over two, rubbed out the top, and wrote a one beneath it, slowly, the way you'd sign a cheque you weren't sure of. "Half," he said. "That'll do for tonight."