Black linework tattoo of a sun with a human face and wavy rays on the side of a person's ribs, in a fine line style.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Sun with face on the ribs

Fine line · Ribs · Black and grey · Photo

A sun with a face at its centre, drawn in black outline with wavy and pointed rays radiating outwards. The linework is fine and even, with small hatched details on the rays and face, and no shading or colour. The tattoo is centred on the side of the ribcage, with blonde hair falling across the left edge of the frame.

Fine line Ribs Sun Celestial Ray Face Outline

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Dear Margery, The sun has been wrong for three weeks, and Prior Edmund will not hear a word of it. Above the refectory door, where the old mason cut it into the lintel before the great flood, there is a sun with a face: round cheeks, two eyes half shut against the glare, and rays that go out in long points and then wave, as if the light were water. Brother Cuthbert says it was meant to keep the monks from sleeping through Lauds. I say it was meant to look kindly on whoever came in hungry.

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Then the frost came in February and split the stone. The left eye fell into the moat, and a crack ran down through the mouth, so that the sun now seems to be sucking a lemon. Brother Piers wanted to hack the whole lintel away. I asked leave to mend it instead, and the prior grumbled yes, provided I used no more lime than the cellarer allowed.

So for nine days I have hung from a ladder with a chisel no thicker than a reed, following the old hatching lines the mason left in the rays. It is slow work. The rays are sharp and then they curl, and every point needs its own small shadow or the light goes flat. This morning I finished the second eye. It sits a little higher than the first, I am afraid, but the sun is looking at the door again, which is what it was for.

Prior Edmund came out to inspect it at noon and stood a long time with his hands in his sleeves. "It has a look of me," he said at last. I told him that was the mason's fault, not mine. He did not laugh, but he did not tell me to scrape it off either. Pray for the lime supply, dear sister, and for the prior's sense of humour.