Watercolour-style flower tattoo with pink and purple petals, red splashes and soft blue washes on the outer thigh.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Watercolour flower on thigh

Botanical · Thigh · Colour · Photo

A large flower with layered pink, purple and orange petals sits on the outer thigh, with red paint-like splashes and drips spreading outward. The petals use soft shading and blended edges, and a pale blue-grey wash runs along the lower part of the design. The background is a dark wall, and a patterned white and black garment edge is visible at the right.

Botanical Thigh Flower Petal Paint splatter Drip Lotus

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The roof over the Marlow Pavilion had been leaking since August, so when the rain came through on the Thursday before the Harvest Dance, it found the backdrop I'd spent a week painting. Mr Pryce stood in the doorway with his hat in both hands and said the Lady of the Lake was ruined. I told him she was a lily now, and he could take it up with the Mayor.

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The flower had taken shape in a mess of rose madder and ochre, bleeding into the pale blue wash I'd laid along the bottom to suggest water. Where the drops had struck, the colour ran in red threads down the canvas, splashing out from the centre like something flicked from a brush by a careless hand. I wanted to scrape it back. My hand wouldn't go near it. I'd spent all week trying to make the petals look as if they were opening, and the water had managed it in ten minutes.

On the night, the band struck up at eight and the floor filled with people in their good shoes. Nobody looked at the backdrop much until the lamps went down over the bandstand and caught the wet sheen. Then a woman in a green frock stopped dancing, put a hand flat against her chest, and said it looked like a flower that had been dropped into a glass of wine. Mr Pryce took that as a compliment and paid me double.

I still have the stretch of canvas, rolled up in the cupboard under the stairs. When I unroll it, the red drips have dried into little beads, and the lotus is opening the way it did that night, all its petals turned towards the bandstand as if it had heard the music.