Small black fine line tattoo of a treble clef and three musical notes on the skin behind a person's ear.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Treble clef and notes behind the ear

Fine line · Neck · Black and grey · Photo

The image shows the side and back of a head with the ear visible, and a small tattoo sits on the skin behind it. The tattoo is a treble clef with three musical notes arranged around it, drawn in thin, even black linework with no shading. The ink is solid black against a plain, softly lit background, and the composition is tightly framed on the tattoo.

Fine line Neck 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

Mr Pell had left the piano in the back room of the Anchor since the spring gale, and nobody else in Porthkerris would touch it, so on Tuesdays I went down with my tuning fork and a bag of felt wedges and let the damp out of the strings. The room smelt of wet rope and stale beer. The keys had yellowed like old teeth, and two of the middle Cs had gone flat enough to set the dog next door howling.

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I had been listening to the harbour for weeks before that, if I'm honest. Gulls on the slipway, the ferry chain knocking against its post, the bell buoy off the breakwater swinging its one flat note whenever the tide turned. I started writing them down on the back of the tide tables, little hooks and dots, the way my mother once taught me to copy out hymns. The buoy was a low E. The gulls kept coming in at a sharp G that never quite settled.

On the Thursday Mr Pell's granddaughter came in from the boats, salt still in her hair, and sat on the stool without asking. She pressed the A above middle C and the wire rang clean. "You've been humming at the wall," she said. "Everyone's heard you."

I showed her the tide table. She ran her thumb over the dots and gave a short laugh, then played my harbour back to me, the buoy, the gulls, the ferry chain, all of it slightly wrong and all of it true. The room filled with it until the windows rattled in their frames, and I stopped counting the notes, because they were already out in the street with the tide.