Realistic drum pedal tattoo in black and grey with small red accents on an ankle and the top of a foot, placed beside a real bass drum pedal.

Realistic drum pedal tattoo on ankle

Realism · Ankle · Mixed · Photo

A bare foot rests on a bass drum pedal, and a detailed tattoo of a drum pedal sits on the ankle and the side of the foot. The shading is smooth and grey with depth in the metal parts, and thin red highlights appear on the linkage. The photograph is taken from the side with the real pedal and a black drum shell behind, so the tattoo and the object sit side by side.

Realism Ankle Foot Metal Music

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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

Right, sit down, the lot of you, and mind the hatch. My gran told me this one, and she had it from a man who was there, so it's as true as anything I can promise you.

Keep reading

Before the Quiet, when the grid still fed the towers, there was a bass drum in a hall called the Lantern at Coldharbour. Nobody remembers who built the pedal that lived beneath it. It was one great hinge of grey metal with a spring as thick as a wrist and a cable running up to a beater the size of a fist. Every night a drummer put her weight on the footboard and the beater came down, and the whole hall moved with it, as if the floor had a heart.

When the towers went dark, the hall went with them. The drum was carted off to the valley, because a drum is the first thing people hide when they are hungry. The pedal stayed behind in a sack. Ruth, who kept the mill wheel, took it home and bolted it to a plank. She had no drum to strike, so she taught the children to stamp on the plank with their heels, one, two, one, two, and the spring answered with a clack that carried over the water to the far bank.

Years later the valley had a clock of its own, and a dance, and a boy who thought he was too grand for either. He asked why they kept that old iron thing in the middle of the square. Ruth was past ninety by then. She said, "Put your foot where mine goes and tell me what you feel." He pressed down, the spring pushed back, steady as a heartbeat, and the whole square kept time with it.