Small geometric tattoo of overlapping triangles in black, teal and muted brown on a forearm, with the hand open below.

Triangle tattoo on a forearm

Geometric · Forearm · Mixed · Photo

A small tattoo of overlapping triangles sits on the forearm, with a solid black triangle at the base, a teal triangle above it and a muted brown triangle at the top. The shapes are filled with flat, solid colour and have crisp edges, with no shading or fine linework. The forearm fills the left and centre of the frame against a dark background, with the open hand in the lower left.

Geometric Forearm Triangle Geometric shape

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

The footbridge over the Calder had three corners, which is why the night foreman sent me to measure it. Nobody builds a bridge in a triangle, he said, so either the drawings were wrong or the river had moved them. I climbed the iron stairs at half eleven with a steel tape and a torch, and the water underneath ran as black as a coal scuttle, carrying things I didn't look at closely.

Keep reading

Each corner had a plate bolted to the parapet. The base was a slab of slate, the colour of wet ink, cut so square it sat flush against the iron. On the eastern corner someone had fixed a sheet of teal enamel, chipped at one edge where the frost had lifted it. The top corner was a rust-brown plate, dull as an old penny. I measured all three twice. The sides matched to a hair, which should not have been possible for plates cast forty years apart.

At two o'clock the city went quiet in the particular way it does, and I wrote the figures in my book: black, teal, brown, and beneath them the angle between the two longest sides, sixty degrees exactly. When I looked up, the foreman was standing at the foot of the stairs with his hands in his pockets, watching the bridge the way you'd watch a dog you didn't trust. He asked if it was true. I told him it was, every line of it, and that the only thing out of true that night was my own reckoning, which I had been making for an hour without once checking it against the water.