Black tribal tattoo of a sun motif with triangular and spiral patterns covering the upper arm and shoulder of a person in a red vest top.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Polynesian sun tribal on upper arm

Blackwork · Upper arm · Black and grey · Photo

A large tribal design covers the upper arm and shoulder, centred on a sun-like motif with a stylised face and radiating spiral marks. Bold black linework forms triangular rays, a curved band and a zigzag border along the lower edge. The ink is solid black on skin with no colour, and the person is shown from the shoulder down against a dark background.

Blackwork Geometric Upper arm Shoulder Sun Tribal pattern Triangle Spiral Zigzag Band

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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

Tuesday, twenty past four. Ruth has not come in again, so the first batch is mine alone, and the dough has already decided it wants to be cross. I am writing this on the back of a delivery sheet because the notebook is under forty kilos of rye.

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The sun does not rise over Hallam Street. It rises over the Co-op car park, and only after the bins have been emptied. Mr Okafor from the chemist's comes at a quarter to five every day for a cob and says nothing, which I have come to respect. Yesterday he left a folded paper on the counter with a drawing on it: a round face inside a ring of black rays, the sort of sun a child would draw if the child had been taught woodcut. He said his grandfather cut one like it into a doorframe in Lagos. He asked whether I could score it into the top of a loaf. I said I would try.

Today I tried. Six tins, a sharp razor, and the wrist knowledge my mother had and I never wanted. The first came out lopsided, a sun with a squint. The fourth held. The rays fanned out, and a spiral opened at the centre where the steam pushed the cut apart like a flower. When he came in he turned the loaf over in his hands for a long time, then put exact change on the counter, which is how I knew he meant it.

Shutters up at six. The light has come over the car park after all, thin and orange, and it lies across the flour sacks in bands. I have kept the fourth loaf back. I am going to leave it on the step for whoever comes first, and I will not write down who that is.