Small solid black four-pointed star tattoo on the back of a woman's neck, above a white vest top, with pale blossom in the background.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Small four-pointed star on the back of the neck

Neck · Black and grey · Photo

A woman with dark hair tied back is photographed from behind, showing a small, solid black four-pointed star tattoo at the base of her neck. The star has simple, clean edges with no visible shading, and the ink is the only colour in the frame apart from the pale pink and white blossom behind her. The shallow depth of field keeps the tattoo sharp while the flowers and foliage blur softly.

Neck Star Blossom

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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

Sit down, sit down, the cake will keep, and so will the orchard, which has been waiting on this wedding for two hundred years. I'll tell you about the cooper's daughter who married the lighthouse man at Lynmouth, because every good wedding wants a star in it somewhere.

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Her father made barrels for the herring boats, and he had a habit of burning a small mark into the head of each one so the crews could tell their casks apart in the dark of a hold. Four points, like a compass that had got bored of north. The girl, Ada, learned to burn it at ten. When Joseph Hale went out to sea each morning, he left her a pinch of salt in a paper twist, and she left him a sprig of pear blossom from the tree by the cooperage, tied with red thread.

One February the boats did not come back. The storm took three of them, and Ada walked the harbour wall every evening with a lantern, certain she would see the wrong star over the water and mistake it for a light. On the ninth night a lamp came round the point, low and steady, and she knew it by the way it flickered four times before it settled. Joseph had rigged it that way himself, years before, so she would know it was him.

They married in the orchard the spring after, under the pear blossom, and the old cooper stamped a small star into the cork of the wedding wine so nobody would mistake it for anybody else's. The wine is long gone. The barrel is still in the cellar, if you want to look. Lift your glasses, and mind the step on the way out.