Black and grey realism roses and a woman's face on a thigh, beside a small fine line rose tattoo on the hand.

Roses and portrait on thigh, small rose on hand

Realism · Thigh · Black and grey · Photo

Two large shaded roses and a woman's face with her hair pulled back are tattooed on the upper thigh of a person wearing ripped denim. A small line-drawn rose with a stem and leaves sits on the back of the hand, which rests against the thigh. The shading is grey and smooth across the roses and face, and the image is shot from above on a textured white rug.

Realism Botanical Fine line Thigh Hand Rose Portrait Face Hair bun Stem Leaves

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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 Wren, the storm took three panes off the north wall last night, so I have spent the morning on a ladder with a tin of putty and a stubborn temper. The Albertine held, mostly. Mum's old cutting from the wall at Pendle Lane has put out two new buds, grey-pink in this light, the colour of dishwater with the sun behind it. She would have called them the best in the house.

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You asked whether I had finished going through her boxes. I haven't, and I'm not sure I will. Yesterday I found a sheet of seed-order paper folded between the pages of her almanac. On it she had drawn two roses, shaded so carefully with the side of her pencil that the petals seemed to fold in on themselves, and beside them a woman's face with her hair pulled back into a bun, eyes lowered as though listening to rain on the glass. There was no name. I think it was her own mother, because the same chin turns up in the photograph on the dresser, but I didn't write that anywhere. I just sat with it for an hour.

The part I keep returning to is the note in the corner, four words in her hand: roses bloom when asked nothing. I used to think that was a gardener's saying, a bit of advice about leaving the secateurs alone. Now I think she meant the drawing. She drew the things she could not keep alive, and kept them anyway.

I've pressed one of the new petals between two pages of the almanac, so you'll get it in the next envelope. Come up before the frost. The roof will be finished by then, and I'll put the kettle on.

Love, Hanna