Enlarged with AI from a smaller original
Painterly floral bouquet on an upper arm
Botanical · Upper arm · Colour · Photo
A bouquet of flowers sits on the outer upper arm and shoulder, featuring a large pink peony, orange roses, blue bell-shaped blooms and smaller pale flowers with trailing leaves. The shading is soft and painterly, with muted greens and fine detail in the petals, resembling an old botanical illustration. The bouquet spreads diagonally down the arm, with the woman's blonde hair and white lace top framing the upper part of the image.
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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction
Dearest Nell, the bluebells came up in Hallow Wood a full fortnight early this year, and Mr Ashby has finally stopped grumbling about the damp in the studio long enough to let me work. I have been painting the bouquet he wants for the plate book, the one commissioned for the Lady of Hartsmere's garden. He wants everything at once, as always: the great pink peony from the old bush by the lychgate, two orange roses that Mrs Pell cut for me before she went to market, the blue bells, and the pale things with trailing leaves that nobody in the village can name but me.
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He wants them arranged as though they were gathered that morning, with not one petal touched by the afternoon sun. I spent the first three days quarrelling with the peony, which will not hold its shape on paper once it has begun to open. So I cut it at the bud, stood the stem in a jar of well water on the windowsill, and let the light do the rest while I worked on the roses, which sulk at any draught and will drop a petal out of pure spite.
On the last afternoon a boy from the cottages at the wood's edge came to the door with a fistful of bluebells wrapped in dock leaves. He asked whether the lady would paint his mother's flowers too, since she had none left in her window box after the frost. I told him I would if he brought the dock leaves back in the morning, because the green we need is on the underside, where the light never reaches. He ran off before I could say anything else.
He was back at seven, a little out of breath, with a basket of pale stems and a mud smear across his cheek. I have set them beside the peony now, and Mr Ashby says the plate will be finished by Friday. I think it is the first honest bouquet I have ever made. Come and see it when you can. The bluebells will be gone by then, but I have kept a few pressed in the back of the book for you.
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