Watercolour-style daisy tattoo in teal, pink and yellow on the upper arm, ringed by the script words Do you suppose she's a wildflower.

Watercolour daisy with wildflower quote

Botanical · Upper arm · Colour · Photo

A daisy with teal, pink and yellow watercolour washes and fine black outlines forms the centre of the design, with petals bleeding into soft splashes of colour. Black cursive script wraps around the flower in a circle, reading Do you suppose she's a wildflower. The tattoo sits on the upper arm, photographed close up on smooth skin.

Botanical Lettering Upper arm Daisy Flower Wildflower Script Quote Watercolour

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 mistress of the house wanted her garden walls done before the spring guests arrived, and she sent for me because the last painter had laid his blues on so thick that her peach trees looked drowned. I was twenty-two, with a leather pouch of ground azurite, a pot of yolk, and a brush that had belonged to a dead man. I thinned my colours with water and let them run, which the older masters called lazy.

Keep reading

The daughter, Tullia, was supposed to be at her letters but spent every morning on the cistern wall picking daisies from the cracks between the paving stones. Her tutor had complained to her mother that she was too unruly for a girl of good family. "Do you suppose she's a wildflower?" the tutor had asked the courtyard, meaning it as an insult, and Tullia had repeated it to me with great satisfaction while she tore the heads off a handful of weeds.

I painted a daisy on the plaster beside the fountain, its petals washed in teal and rose and a thread of gold at the centre, letting the pink drip down the wall where the water ran. Veturia came out to scold me for the mess, then stopped in front of it and touched one wet petal with her fingertip. She said nothing for a long time. Afterwards she told the steward to stop weeding the courtyard cracks.

That evening I found my ledger open on the bench, and between its pages lay a daisy, pressed flat, with a faint blue smear from my own brush across one petal.