Tattoo of a sketched eye with loose blue watercolour-style wash and black ink splatter on the forearm.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Sketched eye with blue wash on a forearm

Forearm · Mixed · Photo

A large, open eye is drawn in loose black linework with sketchy, overlapping strokes and scattered ink specks. Soft blue and turquoise wash sits around and inside the eye, leaving lighter gaps that suggest a watercolour effect. The design fills most of the frame against a green fabric background.

Forearm Eye

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The wind had turned on the lake the morning of the wedding, and the bride would not stand on the shore while the water was grey. Old Hanne sent her grandson Tomas up to the loft for the stone wrapped in a flour sack, the one her mother had kept in the flour bin so the damp would not get at it. It was no bigger than a hen's egg, pale as skimmed milk, with a dark thread through the middle like a crack that had healed.

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The village said it was the lake's eye. You held it up to the water and, if the lake was willing, the grey would clear to blue from the bottom up, the way a wash of colour spreads through wet paper. Tomas had never seen it work. He held it out over the shallows with his brother's hand under his elbow, and the reeds bent, and the blue came through the lake in long slow strokes, pooling in the places where the water was deepest, and leaving pale gaps where the light lay on the sand.

The bride, Ilse, stepped down to the edge in her borrowed boots and looked into the stone. She saw her own face in it, small and steady, and then she saw the lake behind her face, watching. The blue ran out to the far bank. Hanne said afterwards that the lake had only ever wanted to be asked. Tomas gave the stone to Ilse, and Ilse gave it to the groom, and he set it down on a flat rock where the sun could reach it.

They were married in that clear light with the ink-dark reeds drawn sharp against the water. When the vows were done the stone was still lying on the rock, and nobody picked it up to turn it over again.