Colour realism tattoo of a purple and red rose with green leaves on a forearm, with printed rose photographs in the background.

Realistic purple rose on a forearm

Realism · Forearm · Colour · Photo

A large open rose with layered purple and crimson petals and a small green bud and leaves behind it, with a water droplet on a lower petal. The rendering uses soft blended shading, fine petal texture and bright highlights to give the flower depth and a lifelike, photographic look. Colour ink dominates across the composition, which is framed tightly on the limb with a dark green background wash.

Realism Botanical Forearm Rose Petal Leaves Bud Water droplet Flower

Find an artist for this

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

Dear Nell, the roadhouse at Amboy has a radiator that knocks like a drunk wanting in, so I have decided to take that as my cue to write properly. The rose you asked about is alive. Mr Okafor, who runs the petrol pump, grew it from a cutting in a bucket behind his kitchen, and he gave it to me on Tuesday when the Bedford lost its fan belt and I had to wait three hours for a man from Joshua Flats.

Keep reading

Every morning he waters it from the dregs of the ice chest, one cupful, poured slowly so the earth doesn't crust. Every morning there is a single drop left sitting on the lowest petal, fat and clear, catching the sun as if it has been paid to. I have stopped telling him it won't last. He says that is what the cup is for.

Yesterday a dust wall came over the road so thick the headlamps were no use, and I sat in the cab with the jar on my knee and thought about what you said at the bus stop in March, that a rose out here is only ever a rumour of water. I used to think you were being clever. Now I am not sure you weren't simply right, and that the petals are holding out for something we have forgotten to ask for.

When the wind dropped I checked. The drop was still there, a little smaller, trembling on the velvet edge of the crimson petal. I have wrapped the jar in my good jumper and I am bringing it home to you in the van on Sunday, drop and all, if the road lets me. Put the kettle on. Love, Lou.