Colour tattoo of a tree with multicoloured leaves growing from an open book, with the word IMAGINE on the trunk and birds above, on an upper arm.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Tree of leaves growing from an open book

Botanical · Upper arm · Mixed · Photo

A tree with bare, purple-shaded branches grows from the pages of an open book, with its roots spreading across the book. The leaves are filled in with pink, yellow, red, teal and blue, and the book and roots use grey shading. The word IMAGINE runs up the trunk, with a few birds in flight at the top of the composition.

Botanical Upper arm Tree Book Leaves Bird Root

Find an artist for this

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

Mags had already torn the second page out of the ledger before Dad noticed, and by then the gulls were up over the quay and the last of the boats was pulling out past the breakwater. The ledger was the one with the catch weights, the one nobody read but him. She had folded the paper into a boat and set it on the cold tap water in the wash-house sink, and it had not sunk, which felt like the sort of thing that counted.

Keep reading

Her grandmother had kept a shelf of books in the net loft, damp-warped, their spines gone soft as rope. Nobody had opened them since the winter the Margaret Rose went down. Mags took the thickest one down that evening, a water-stained atlas with the word IMAGINE stamped in faded gold on its cover, and she sat on an upturned creel and began to draw.

She drew the way her gran had taught her, starting from the roots. Grey lines spread across the pages like tidal channels. Then a trunk, then branches bare and purple as bruises, then leaves in every colour the harbour had lost to the weather: pink, yellow, red, a teal like the water off the point. By the time the lamp guttered, the tree stood out of the atlas's margins and up into the dark rafters of the loft.

In the morning the boats came in early, and the crew found their own nets mended without anyone asking. Dad stood in the loft doorway for a long time, looking up. Above the tree, three birds were turning in a loose circle, and Mags could have sworn one of them had come straight off the page.