Peacock butterfly with red flowers on chest
Realism · Chest · Colour · Photo
A peacock butterfly with orange, red and brown wings and blue-ringed eye spots sits at the centre of the chest, with clusters of red flowers arcing out on either side like wings. The shading is soft and realistic, with gradual tonal changes across the petals and wing markings. The warm skin tone and white top give the red and orange ink strong contrast in a close, centred crop.
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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction
Dear Marguerite,
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You'll laugh, but the peacock butterfly came back to the ninth floor this morning, the one with the blue eyes on its wings that Dad always said were watching us. I was out on the walkway with the watering can, trying to coax the red salvias into something like a border, and it settled on the rail beside the pot as if it had booked a table. Mrs Okonedo from flat 41 says they only come when the summer means to hold, so I'm not trusting it yet.
The council sent a man round in March to say the drying green was condemned, so the only ground left is the strip of concrete between our balconies and the bins. I've filled it with biscuit tins, an old bath panel, a sink full of compost, and every red flower I could beg from the garden centre on Saturday. Sophie from the top floor swears the cuttings from her gran's allotment are stronger, and she's probably right, because the petals went up like sparks the week after she gave me them.
I haven't told you the real reason I kept at it. Last winter the lift broke for nine weeks and Dad couldn't manage the stairs, so I carried the plants down one at a time while he called out where to set them from the bench by the fire door. Now he's in the home by the canal and the balcony is mine to tend. The butterfly kept opening and closing its wings on the rail, slow as breathing, orange flashing into that deep brown, and I stood there with the can dripping on my shoes until it lifted off over the car park.
Come up at the weekend. I'll make you tea in the chipped mug and you can see the salvias for yourself. Bring the big secateurs, because they've got away from me again. Love, Ruth
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