Black and white photo of a tiny fine line airplane tattoo on the upper arm, with a dark top and a hand with a ring at the edge of the frame.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Small airplane tattoo on upper arm

Fine line · Upper arm · Black and grey · Photo

A small airplane outline sits on the upper arm, drawn in thin black single lines and angled diagonally towards the upper left. The skin is smooth and evenly lit, and the tattoo occupies only a small area in the lower half of the frame. The photograph is black and white, with a dark top filling the background and a blurred hand with a ring at the left edge.

Fine line Upper arm Airplane Outline

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

Nell had been told three times that the Auster would not leave the grass with its cowling off, and three times she had ignored the advice, which was how she came to be lying under the wing at six in the morning with a torch clamped between her teeth. Dan from the feed merchant's stood at the fence with a mug of tea going cold in his hand, saying nothing in the particular way he had of saying a great deal.

Keep reading

The plane had been her father's. He had drawn it first on the back of a seed invoice in 1971, one long unbroken line that lifted off the paper and never quite came back down to the ink. She had found that invoice folded inside the logbook after the funeral, soft as cloth, and had carried it in her coat pocket for two winters without deciding what to do with it.

When the cowling finally sat square, she crawled out with grease to her elbows and stood up beside the fence. The windsock hung limp. Dan put his mug on the post and walked out to the strut without a word, and together they tightened the last bolt while the sun came up grey over the stubble.

She took the invoice from her pocket and pinned it to the instrument panel with a clothes peg. Then she climbed in, read the checklist aloud to nobody, and opened the throttle. The tail came up. The hedge rushed past. For one long moment the wheels sang on the grass, and then the windsock finally stirred, and the Auster lifted off the field as if her father had only been waiting for her to notice.