Seven small black fine line radial burst tattoos run in a diagonal row across the top of a bare foot, on a tiled floor.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Seven radial burst tattoos across a foot

Fine line · Other · Black and grey · Photo

Seven small circular radial burst designs sit in a diagonal line across the top of a foot, decreasing and increasing slightly in size along the row. The lines are thin, dark and radiate outwards from a central point, with the largest burst at the centre of the row. The ink is solid black on pale skin, set against a beige tiled floor in a close, slightly angled view.

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 Ruth, I'm writing this on the upturned crate by the proving racks because the kettle has finally boiled and nobody else is awake to argue about the lamp. It is twenty past four. Outside, Harrow Lane is still the colour of wet slate, and the first van has not yet come up from the depot.

Keep reading

Yesterday you asked what I do with the seed heads when the dandelions go over on the verge. I've been thinking about it since. Dad used to blow them into a row and count the puffs, one for each of us, and whichever flew furthest meant the year would be kind. Last Tuesday I tried it on the flour dust in the tray, dragging a skewer through it in rings, and the middle one came out biggest because that's where I pressed hardest. Seven rings in a line, shrinking towards the edges, then swelling back out again. Mrs Okafor from the café next door saw them and asked who had drawn the sun on my bench.

I haven't told you the rest. Mum's starter is still alive in the blue jar, fed every morning since the funeral, and I've started using it for the Sunday cobs. Yesterday's batch rose better than anything Dad ever made. I don't know whether that's luck or stubbornness. Either way, the loaves are cooling in a neat row on the rack, seven of them, and I have done nothing to arrange them except bake them in the order they came out.

Come up at Easter. Bring nothing but your boots. The first one out of the oven is yours, and I'll leave the back door propped for you. Love, Nell.

More like this

From the plentytattoo archive, uploaded by a user. Is this your work? Ask for credit or removal.