Black and grey realism rose sleeve on the left arm and a lotus on the right forearm, with an eye tattoo on the chest, shown in a mirror selfie.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Rose sleeve and eye tattoo on a woman

Realism · Upper arm · Black and grey · Photo

A woman in a black dress takes a mirror selfie, showing a large black and grey sleeve on her left arm that includes roses and a shaded female face. A lotus design sits on her right forearm, and a small eye inside a triangle is placed on her chest between the neckline of the dress. The shading is soft and realistic on the sleeve, with the image lit evenly against a pale wall.

Realism Botanical Upper arm Forearm Chest Rose Lotus Eye Triangle Portrait Woman Sleeve 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

Come closer, the rain has got under the awnings and it will not hurry off for anyone, so you may as well stand where the cloth drips least. Mind the cabbages. Now, you have all heard of the widow Marrow who kept the rose stall at Saltgate, the one with red roses wound up the ironwork. She sold them by the stem, a penny a bloom, and never once let a customer touch the thorns.

Keep reading

One wet March a stranger came up from the harbour carrying a card with a girl's face painted on it, the face of Ilse Brand, who had walked off the end of the pier and not come back. He asked Marrow to take it across the square to the lotus man, who grew his blossoms in a tub of brackish water and would take no coin, only something precious. Marrow looked at the card for a long while. Then she tucked it beneath the rose bush and said the roses would keep the girl company until the tide gave her back.

Here is the turn. The lotus man opened his palm, and in it sat a small eye drawn inside a triangle, the sort of mark the harbour watchmen cut into the posts so the drowned could find their way home. He pressed it against the card. The paper dried, the roses bloomed out of season, and the painted face turned, just slightly, toward the square.

The rain is easing now, and the cabbages are going home. If you see a woman selling roses by the pier steps on a Tuesday, do not take the flower from her hand. She will ask you what you have lost, and she will already know the answer.