Black ink tattoo of a treble clef with music notes on the inner forearm near the wrist, in a simple bold linework style.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Treble clef and music notes on a wrist

Forearm · Black and grey · Photo

A black tattoo of a treble clef with two musical notes sits on the inner wrist and forearm of a light-skinned person. The lines are solid black with smooth curves and little shading, and the design is set against plain skin with a soft, blurred background. The image is a close, centred crop with the tattoo filling most of the frame.

Forearm Treble clef Music note Music

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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, the lot of you, the urn's only just boiled and Maureen's been waiting since the Thatcher years to tell this one. You all remember Miss Tolley and her piano with the sticking B flat. She taught singing in the hall above the chip shop, and every Thursday she drew the same swirling mark on the blackboard, that great fish-hook with a curl at the bottom, and she told us it was the only letter in the alphabet that could make a grown man cry.

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Ah, Alan Driscoll cried at the Christmas concert, but that was the trombone. Anyway. The spring we left, the council sold the hall, and Miss Tolley found an old box under the stage with forty pages of hand-copied music in pencil. Beside every bar were two little quavers, one for the morning and one for the dark. Nobody had ever sung it. She'd written it for the boys who went down the pit and never came back up.

She tried it once, at the summer fete, on a borrowed upright, and the whole field went quiet, even the dogs. Then the wind caught the pages and scattered them across the bowling green, and the vicar chased the last one into the hedge. Miss Tolley just laughed and said the notes were out now, let them find their own way home.

So if you're wondering why there are two little notes tucked beside that clef, that's the answer. Pick up your glasses, Doreen, and hum the first line with me. It goes down before it comes up, same as every life in this room.