Rainbow paint splatter tattoo across a forearm, with purple, blue, green, yellow, orange and red blotches running from the elbow towards the wrist.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Rainbow paint splatter on a forearm

Forearm · Colour · Photo

A paint splatter design runs across the forearm, with dense blotches and fine droplets in purple, blue, green, yellow, orange and red. The colour is strongest at the centre and fades into scattered spots towards the wrist, giving a loose, painterly effect. The photo is taken indoors in a car, with denim visible at the bottom edge and the arm filling most of the frame.

Forearm Paint splatter Rainbow Splatter Droplet Abstract

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Tamsin the colourman kept seven clay pots on the windowsill of her cottage at the end of Hollin Lane, one for each colour the sky had lent the village that summer. Nobody asked her where the colours came from. They came in on the rain and sat in her pots until she needed them.

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The year the frost came early, the apple orchard died and the church wall went grey. Her grandson Piers, who was nine and impatient, carried the purple pot out to the garden to see if he could fling the sky back up. He tripped on the step. The pot broke against the water butt, and the purple went everywhere: up the hedge, across the cabbages, onto the wet gravel.

Tamsin didn't scold him. She knelt, dipped her fingers in the spill, and began to draw the other colours after it, blue from the rain butt, green from the beans, yellow from the marigolds, orange from the fallen plums, until the garden wall was painted in a dripping arc. It was thickest where the spill had been and thinned to single spots near the back gate, as if the colours were tired of travelling.

By morning the frost had lifted off the orchard. Piers swore the red drops at the end of the wall were still wet, and when a blackbird pecked at one it flew off singing a tune nobody in Hollin had heard. Tamsin said the colours had simply gone where they were needed, and that the sky would make more by next spring, provided nobody tried to carry it.