Two traditional style colour tattoos side by side on forearms, a sun with a face on the left and a crescent moon with a face on the right, both with dotted chains and a gem below.

Sun and moon tattoos on matching forearms

Traditional · Forearm · Colour · Photo

The left tattoo shows a smiling sun with a human face, surrounded by a ring of beads and orange and yellow rays, with a dotted chain and an oval gemstone hanging beneath. The right tattoo shows a crescent moon with a face in profile, teal and green shading, purple four-pointed stars and a matching dotted chain and gemstone. Both use bold black outlines and solid fills in a mirrored, paired composition across the two arms.

Traditional Forearm Sun Moon Face Star Gemstone Dotted chain Celestial Pair

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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

Right, sit down, and mind the tray, the bread's not finished with you yet. The Pennick sisters ran the oven on Garside Lane before anybody thought to put a light on in it. Edie baked nights. Her sister Maud came in at the first grey to draw the loaves, and for a quarter of an hour every morning the two of them stood in that doorway with their hands in the same sack of flour and said nothing at all.

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Edie had a face like the moon, folks said, pale and turned half away, because she never looked anyone straight in the eye before the work was done. Maud had a face like the sun, the sort that made the milk-cart man laugh before he'd had his tea. They quarrelled about the dough. Maud said Edie let it prove too long and it went slack. Edie said Maud rushed it and it went to bricks. Neither was wrong, which made it worse.

The winter the mill closed, there was no money for the good flour. Edie sat up with the last sack, picking weevils out with a hairpin, and Maud came down the stairs at four with her coat already buttoned and found her asleep against the proving drawer. She didn't wake her. She took the hairpin, finished the sack herself, and left a single bun on the bench, glazed dark, with a garnet button pressed into the top the way their mother used to do for birthdays.

Edie ate it cold at six, when the light came up over the chimneys. Well. That's the whole of it. Mind, the moon still rises over that lane and the sun still comes after it, and neither has ever once asked the other to move.