Black script lettering reading Let the Ocean take me across a forearm, with smaller script tattoos visible on the upper chest.

Script quote reading Let the Ocean take me on a forearm

Lettering · Forearm · Black and grey · Photo

A close view of a forearm with the words Let the Ocean take me written in a flowing black script across the skin. The linework is clean and even, with solid black ink and no shading or colour. The arm fills the left and centre of the frame, with a lace-trimmed top and a necklace visible above, and two smaller script tattoos are partly visible on the upper chest.

Lettering Forearm Chest Ocean Script Quote Lettering

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

The sea had eaten the lower courtyard of Harrowmere in the winter the old lord died, and by spring it was lapping at the kitchen steps. Tobias Finch came up the cliff path with a barrow of lime and a chisel wrapped in sacking, and the first thing he saw was Mother Greave sitting on the sea wall with her boots off, letting the spray reach her feet.

Keep reading

'You'll not keep it out,' she said, without looking round. 'Nobody has. The castle was built on a promise to the water, and the water keeps its promises.' Tobias said he had been hired to mend the wall, not to argue with the tide, and he set to work mixing mortar in the lee of the gatehouse. For nine days he laid stone. Each night the swell came in over what he had laid and took the top course back out to sea, grey blocks rolling under the surf like sleepers in a river.

On the tenth morning the wall stood. Tobias leaned beside it, sore-handed, and Mother Greave came up the path with a lantern though it was broad daylight. She had a slate in her apron. 'Carve the promise,' she said. 'Then it will hold.' He asked what the promise was. She told him to cut the words he had been muttering all week, the ones the castle's first builder had cut above the sea door before the weather wore them to nothing.

He cut them into the lintel of the postern, each stroke clean and even: Let the Ocean take me. That night the tide climbed to the threshold and stopped there. In the morning Mother Greave was gone, her boots set side by side on the wall, and the sea lay as calm as a plate. Tobias never learned whether she had walked into it or simply stopped climbing. The wall held for a hundred years.