Rose and blackberry sleeve on upper arm

Botanical · Upper arm · Mixed · Photo

A woman's upper arm and shoulder are covered by a large sleeve of roses, leaves and trailing blackberries, with the face out of frame. The bold outlines are combined with soft grey shading to give the blooms depth, and faint red wash appears in the petals of the lower rose. The composition wraps from the shoulder down the outside of the arm, with the flowers largest near the top and the berries tapering towards the elbow against a blurred indoor background.

Botanical Upper arm Shoulder Rose Blackberry Leaves Sleeve Flower

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Dear Nell,

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The brambles along the Oxford cut have gone black early this year, and Tom and I have been picking them off the towpath every evening since the lock keeper's dog got into the hedge and came out purple to the ears. The rose by the bridge is still going too, the big cabbage kind that drops its petals on the water as if someone has been careless with confetti. I took a handful of both back to the boat and put them in the blue enamel jug on the table, which is where the stove smoke has got into everything.

Tom says the blackberries will turn sour after Michaelmas and that the devil spits on them, which is his way of saying he wants a pie. I told him the devil can keep his spit. I stewed the fruit with sugar and a squeeze of lemon and we ate it out of the pan with two spoons, arguing about whether the berries from the far side of the weir taste of iron. They do. He is still unconvinced.

The real reason I am writing is the barge. The Patience has a leak under the galley that Mr Hale reckons will cost two hundred pounds to mend, and I have decided to pay for it from the money the old mangle fetched at auction. Don't argue. I know what you think of the mangle.

Come up at the weekend if you can. There is room in the forecastle and I will show you the bramble bank, though I expect the children from the village will have stripped it bare by the time we get there. Bring your good boots.

Love, Ada