Small black fine line heart with curled tails on the inner wrist, shown with the palm facing up.

Small swirl heart on an inner wrist

Fine line · Forearm · Black and grey · Photo

A small heart outline sits on the inner wrist, drawn with a thin black line whose ends curl into spirals at the top and bottom point. The hand is open with a ring on one finger, resting against a dark grey stone surface. The tattoo is in sharp focus at the centre of the frame, with a warm, vignetted tone across the photograph.

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

Sit closer, the lot of you, the peat's warm and the kettle's not yet boiled. Mind the dog. This is about Morag Tulloch, who mended nets on the north side of Skerra Mor, and the thin black line she drew on every boat that came home safe.

Keep reading

She kept a pot of ink made from soot and fish oil, and a quill from a gull's wing. She would sit on the slipway with a boat's name still wet on its bow and draw a heart above the waterline. Not a fat heart like the ones on the Sunday cards. A narrow one, its point finished with a curl like the end of a fern before it opens, and the two top lobes ending in little spirals. She said the spirals were there so the sea would have to stop and count them.

Then came the winter the Brenna went out and did not come back in. Morag drew her heart on the Brenna's stern the morning she sailed, and another on the slipway wall the morning after, and every morning for a year, until the wall had so many hearts the children called it the wallpaper.

In the spring Donald Rennie walked up from the harbour with a coil of rope over his shoulder and salt in his beard. He said the sea had taken the Brenna and kept nothing else. Morag looked at him for a long while, then at the stern he had dragged ashore, where her small black heart still sat, not a drop of it run. Ink is stubborn, she said, like the women of this island. She knelt in the wet sand, drew one last heart with her finger, and watched the tide come up and close its spirals one by one.

More like this

From the plentytattoo archive, uploaded by a user. Is this your work? Ask for credit or removal.