Black and grey realism tattoo of an open pocket watch with Roman numerals and visible gears, with a filigree heart locket on a chain, across the upper arm.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Pocket watch with filigree locket on upper arm

Realism · Upper arm · Black and grey · Photo

The tattoo shows an open pocket watch with Roman numerals, a visible movement and small script engraved on the case, with a filigree heart-shaped locket hanging from a chain below it. Smooth shading and fine detail give the watch and metalwork a three-dimensional look, set against swirling smoke-like shading. The image is in black and grey and the design fills the upper arm and shoulder area.

Realism Upper arm Pocket watch Clock Roman numeral Gear Heart Chain Smoke Filigree

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

You learn the lamp at Scarrow Head by its weights before you learn it by its light. The clockwork drum hangs down the tower like a plumb line, and every four hours you climb the stairs with the crank and haul it back up, counting turns the way your father taught you. His pocket watch hangs on the nail beside the logbook, silver, its Roman numerals open to the room. He never once let you wind it.

Keep reading

The fog came in on a Tuesday and stayed. Through the glass you could see nothing past the rail, only the lamp's own sweep going out into the grey and returning empty. At two in the morning the drum stuck, the gears groaning, and the beam slowed to a crawl. You took the watch down and held it to the lantern. Its movement was still ticking, steady as a heart, and you thought of the filigree locket your mother wore on a chain, the one she swore held a curl of your hair, worked so finely it looked like frost.

You understood then what he had meant. Time was never the watch's business. Time was the weight. You hooked the watch chain to the drum's spindle, let its small gears take the strain, and cranked by hand until the beam swung out again, bright and wheeling across the water. Somewhere out past the Shoal a trawler captain saw it and turned for home.

At dawn you wound the watch, closed its case and hung the locket beside it on the nail. The chain was warm from your hands. The fog lifted off the rock, and for once you did not count the turns.