Colour realism tattoo of a sunflower with yellow petals, orange centre and green leaves, placed on the inner forearm near the wrist.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Sunflower tattoo on a forearm

Botanical · Forearm · Colour · Photo

A large sunflower in full bloom, with layered yellow and golden petals curling around an orange and green centre. Soft blended shading gives the petals depth, and the green leaves fade out towards the edges of the skin. The flower is centred in the frame, with the forearm running diagonally behind it.

Botanical Realism Forearm Sunflower Flower Petal Leaves Bloom

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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

Shut the door properly, Mags, or the snow comes in and sits on the settle like a dog. There. Now listen, because I'll not tell this twice and the lamp is nearly out.

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Summer came to Harrow Dene the year the Ashby boys went to the war and never sent word back. Old Tessaly Wren kept the one field left under the ridge, and she planted it with seed saved from her mother's garden, great dark-eyed things with faces like clocks. Folk said they were foolish flowers. They grew taller than a man and turned their heads all day to follow the sun across the sky, so that by evening every one of them stared west like a child waiting at a gate.

Come August the field was gold, the petals curled back like the edges of old letters, and the leaves down the stalks had gone the colour of pond water at dusk. Tessaly sat among them with a cup of cold tea when a stranger came up the lane with a cart and a cough. He asked her what she wanted for the lot. She said he could have the field if he carried one flower to the girl at the mill who had waited seven years at the bottom of the lane. He thought she was mad. He took the flower anyway.

That flower sat in a jar on the sill all winter, and the girl at the mill swore it turned its face to the window every time the cloud broke. The Ashby boys never came back, but the girl did not stop waiting, and by March the whole of Harrow Dene had begun to lean its head toward the thin light, the way you do when you know the thaw is coming and you are simply too stubborn to say so.