Pink infinity ribbon tattoo with the black script word faith on the inner wrist.

Pink infinity ribbon with faith script on wrist

Lettering · Forearm · Mixed · Photo

A close photograph of a tattoo on the inner wrist showing a pink ribbon shaped as an infinity symbol. The black script word faith runs through the lower loop and trails off to the right. The pink ink is solid and fairly saturated, with clean black outlines on the lettering, and the tattoo fills the centre of the frame against plain skin.

Lettering Forearm Infinity Ribbon Faith Script Awareness ribbon

Find an artist for this

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 loom at Tanfield Row had stood silent since the Michaelmas fair, and still Hannah Crowther went down each morning to wind the bobbins, because her father had told her a ribbon wound true never needs unwinding. Her hands knew the work better than her head did. Pink silk came up from the dye-vats in Halifax by carter, and she ran it through her fingers the way other girls turned the pages of a psalter.

Keep reading

Mistress Ashworth came down in her grey wool one wet March and laid a coin on the bench. 'I want a ribbon,' she said, 'that goes round the church three times and meets itself at the door, and I want to know where it begins.' Hannah did not answer her straight. She set the shuttle going and let the pink pass over and under, a figure of eight laid on its side, and where the thread crossed at the middle she worked one black word into the lower loop, letter by letter, so the line ran out to the right like a path leaving a field.

Each week the woman came back and asked for more length. Hannah took her money and wove on, and it was said in Tanfield that every thread she knotted in had come from a bed where someone had been kept awake, a father's cough, a boy's fever, a mother who would not sleep until the lamp was lit. Ashworth grew thin and quiet over the winter. In May she took the great shears from their hook and cut the ribbon at the crossing, and she stood holding the two ends for a long time.

The ends were not where she expected. Each one ran back into the loop and out again, unbroken, and the black word sat in the middle of the pink as if it had always been there. The shears went back on their hook. The ribbon was hung in the chapel above the font, where it still goes round three times, and nobody in the parish has ever found where it begins.