Close-up of a small blue star tattoo on the inner ear, placed beside a gold stud and a gold drop earring with a spike.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Small blue star tattoo on inner ear

Other · Colour · Photo

A close-up of an ear with a small, solid blue mark on the inner ear, shaped like a simple star or cross. The ink is flat and uniform with no visible shading, and the blue is the only colour against the skin. Two gold earrings are worn nearby: a small stud with a pale stone and a gold hoop with a spike-shaped drop, with loose hair falling across the edge of the frame.

Other Star Ear Earring Hoop Spike

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

You learn the star before you learn the stamp. Your uncle draws it on the back of a bus ticket at the kitchen table in Wick, five strokes crossing in blue biro, and tells you a star that stays put is the only one worth steering by. Nobody on the border road has heard of him. The post at Lindqvist sits between two fields of rapeseed so bright they hurt, and the officer behind the glass, Ana Bekker, has reading glasses shoved into her hair and a mug with a chipped rim that says nothing at all.

Keep reading

It is past midnight when she lifts the barrier and asks for your papers. You hand her the passport and, because you cannot help it, the map: the crossing at the Vell river circled and starred in blue. She holds it under the lamp for a long time. "This ford took a lorry driver in April," she says. "Either your uncle was wrong about the star, or you are." She keeps the map. She stamps the passport twice, once for going and once, with a small sigh, for coming back.

The bridge at Orla is three miles north, and she tells you to take it, then to keep the window down so you can hear the water. You do. The road climbs out of the fields, and in the mirror the post shrinks to a single white box of light. Your headlights pick out the silver rail, and above the hills the sky has cleared, scattered with stars that have never once asked anyone where they were going.