Colour realism tattoo of a man with voluminous spiked hair and dark blue shading, covering the upper arm of a person in a white vest.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Realistic portrait of a man on upper arm

Realism · Upper arm · Colour · Photo

A realistic portrait of a man with voluminous, spiked hair and intense blue-grey eyes fills the upper arm, with his face and shoulders rendered in detailed skin tones. The shading is smooth and soft in the face, while loose, painterly dark blue and black strokes frame the figure and the background. The composition is cropped close to the arm, with the tattoo wrapping around the shoulder and the subject angled slightly toward the viewer.

Realism Upper arm Portrait Man Face Blue eye

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The yew hedge at Harrowgate Lane had not been cut since my mother's time, and by October it had grown into the shape of a man. I found him the morning after the first frost, shoulders broad under a coat of dark leaves, a crown of shoots standing up stiff and wild above the wall. Mr Pell from the parish said it was a trick of the light. I told him it was a trick of the clippers, because I was the one holding them.

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I went at him with the long shears for three days. Each evening I left my flask on the bench by the gate, and each morning the shoots had come back a finger's length taller, combed towards the gate as if someone had been up in the night brushing them. The berries darkened in the rain until they looked like pale eyes that had been watching me all along.

On the fourth evening I put the shears down. I sat on the bench and told him what I had told nobody, about the nursery in Settle, the wages I never sent home, the greenhouse I burned at nineteen. The hedge did not move. The wind went over the wall and the leaves rustled like a heavy coat being shaken out.

When I stood to leave, the gate was open an inch wider than I had left it, and the gravel path to the lane had been swept clean of every fallen twig. I have not touched the hedge since. On Fridays I carry out a cup of tea and set it on the wall, and it is always gone by morning.