Small black hamsa hand tattoo with patterned detail on the inner wrist of a person with an open palm, against a purple and white tie-dye fabric.

Small hamsa hand on the inner wrist

Fine line · Other · Black and grey · Photo

A small hamsa hand tattoo sits on the inner wrist, with its outline and patterned interior rendered in black ink. The fill uses fine lines and dotted texture to build the pattern inside the hand shape. The photo is taken from above with the palm open, and the tattoo is the only point of detail against the purple and white tie-dye fabric beneath the arm.

Fine line Dotwork Other Hamsa Hand Pattern Wrist

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The boat had been gone three nights when Morag Ferrie went down to the shore with a bucket of lime wash and a brush made from a gull's wing bone. Nobody on Inchcarron said the sea wanted anything. They said the sea was a neighbour who borrowed without asking, and that a house had to be shut against it properly.

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Her mother had taught her the old marks. You did not draw a face, for a face could look back at you. You drew a hand, open, with the fingers spread like a gate that let the light through and kept the weather out. Then you filled it with lines, close as the ribs of a herring, so that nothing could slip between them unnoticed.

She painted one above the byre door, one on the cradle hood, and the last on the flat stone where the boats were dragged up. The rain came sideways that night and rattled the shutters. In the morning the stone was still dry in the middle, a small grey hand with its palm to the sky, while the wet ground ran away around it.

Her son walked up the path at noon with salt in his hair and one arm wrapped in a sheep's wool rag. He said the tide had turned under them and they had rowed in on one oar and a prayer. He stood a while looking at the stone. "Did you paint that?" he asked. She said she had. He did not ask what it was for. He only lifted the bound arm, grinned, and went past her into the house to find something to eat.