Black and grey fine line molecule tattoo on one ankle and a shaded geometric circle tattoo on the other foot, worn with black heeled shoes.

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Molecule and geometric ankle tattoos

Fine line · Ankle · Black and grey · Photo

Two ankle tattoos are shown on a pair of feet wearing black pointed heels with ankle straps. The tattoo on the left ankle is a fine black line drawing of a branching chemical structure, with small hexagonal rings and thin connecting bonds. The tattoo on the right foot is a softly shaded grey design of overlapping circles arranged in a geometric pattern, set against a woven rug.

Fine line Geometric Ankle Molecule Chemical structure Circle Geometric pattern Feet Heel

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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

Sit closer, you lot, and mind the candle, because this is the one about Brother Anselm and the ink that would not dry. The abbey of Saint Odo sat on a wet hill above the Wye, and in its scriptorium there was a cupboard of pigments nobody had opened since the old abbot died. Anselm was sent to clear it out. He found lapis, verdigris, a jar that smelled of vinegar and burnt sugar, and a folded sheet covered in little hexagons joined by thin threads, like a hive drawn by a spider with a steady hand.

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Nobody in the house could read it. The prior said it was a heathen map. The cellarer said it was a recipe for mead. Anselm sat with it through three vespers and a flood, and on the fourth night he saw that the hexagons were not flat. Each one hung from the next by its corner, and when he tilted the page the whole lattice swung like a gate on a good hinge.

So he took his compass and his chalk out to the cloister, where the rain could not reach, and drew circles on the flagstones. He drew them overlapping, one bleeding into the next, until the pattern held the shape of the thing on the page. Then he knelt and set the little hexagons inside them, one by one, and the cloister went very quiet, the way a church does before the bell.

In the morning the chalk was gone, washed away by the night's weather, but the flagstones kept a faint grey ring where the circles had been. The abbot's old dog would not cross it. He walked round and round the edge, sniffing, and then lay down beside it as if it were the warmest spot in the whole abbey.