Enlarged with AI from a smaller original
Realistic portrait with aviator sunglasses
Realism · Forearm · Colour · Photo
A realistic portrait of a man with dark, wavy hair, wearing aviator sunglasses with a dark lens and a metal frame, and a dark jacket with a blue and grey patterned lapel. The shading is smooth and detailed, with soft transitions across the skin tones and hair, and the reds of the lips and blues of the jacket stand out against the greys. The portrait fills the frame, with the head angled slightly to one side and the neck and shoulder fading into the lower edge of the image.
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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction
The last poster Halloran's Bright Tent will ever need is the one you are painting in the back of the lorry, with the canvas flapping and rain coming sideways through the slats. Mrs Okonedo wants a face for the spring run, a ringmaster to stand above the three remaining horses and promise the Midlands something it hasn't seen since before the fire. You mix the greys first. Greys are cheap, and the reds are for the lips, the only part anyone will remember.
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Desmond Vail has not taken off his aviator sunglasses since the night the big top burned, so you paint them the way he wears them now: a steel frame that catches the lamp, and lenses so black you can barely tell there is a man behind them. The jacket is harder. Its lapel is blue and grey, a pattern like sea-washed tin, and you spend three evenings on it, tiny overlapping scales, until your wrist aches and the paint smells of linseed and cold tea.
On the last night before the van leaves, a girl from the town stops at the hoarding with her brother on her hip and asks why the ringmaster is hiding. You tell her he's looking for the light. She takes this seriously. Afterwards you go back to the lorry and, with the smallest brush you own, put a white speck low in the left lens, a reflection of the one lamp still burning in the empty tent behind you.
In the morning the hoarding is gone, pulled down for a supermarket car park, but the boy has the poster rolled under his arm. You watch the speck catch the sun as he runs off down the road, and you realise it is the only part of the show still making anyone look up.
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