Black linework tattoo of the Strength tarot card, showing a woman with an infinity symbol above her head beside a lion, on the calf.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Strength tarot card on a calf

Fine line · Calf · Black and grey · Photo

A tattoo of the Strength tarot card, framed by a rectangular border with the Roman numeral VIII at the top and the word STRENGTH along the bottom. A robed woman with an infinity symbol above her head and flowers in her hair holds the jaws of a lion, with grapevine-like details and a landscape of hills and water behind. The design is drawn in clean single-colour outline with minimal shading, and the skin is shown in a close, straight-on photo of the lower leg.

Fine line Calf Woman Lion Infinity symbol Roman numeral Flower Landscape

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The bread had gone hard in the rack again, and Nell Corrie was stirring a pot on the range when the boatswain put his head through the hatch to say the new deckhand was crying in the fo'c'sle. She didn't turn round. Pans knocked against their hooks as the swell lifted the bow, and spray ticked against the porthole like something wanting in.

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"Tell him to come and peel," she said. "Peeling cures most things."

The lad, Tomasz, a Hull boy who had come aboard in a borrowed oilskin and didn't know which end of a knife to hold, arrived twenty minutes later with his eyes swollen. She set him to the potatoes and kept her hands busy with the stew. Her grandmother had kept a pack of old cards in a biscuit tin and laid them out on the kitchen table whenever the men were at sea. The one Nell remembered was a woman with flowers in her hair, one hand resting easy on a lion's jaw as if the beast were a sleepy dog. Her grandmother had called it the card for patience, not for fighting.

Tomasz asked why the cook kept a bunch of grapes hanging by the stores. Nell said they were for vinegar. It was a lie, and she let him keep it.

When the trawl came up heavy at dawn, the lad was first on deck, hauling the warp with his bare hands and no shouting in him at all. Nell filled a bowl, carried it up the ladder and set it on the hatch coaming beside him. He ate with his back to the wind, steady as a post, while the gulls went round and round over the net.