Watercolour style tattoo of two black blobs with thin tendrils and rainbow splashes on a lower leg above the ankle.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Watercolour splash and black blobs on a calf

Calf · Colour · Photo

The design shows two solid black blobs, each with thin branching lines extending outward, set over loose rainbow washes of red, orange, yellow, green, teal, blue and purple. The black areas are crisp and solid, while the colour fades into soft, irregular edges with a painted, watercolour feel. The tattoo runs vertically down the leg, with the splashes spreading out around the black shapes against a plain white brick wall.

Calf Abstract Splash Tendril Rainbow Watercolour

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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

Sit down, sit down, and mind the bench, it's still wet from the rain. You want to know about the two black seeds? Well. Hester Lund kept her paint jars on the sill of the old glasshouse, and every evening she rinsed her brushes in the cracked stone sink, so the water ran red, then orange, then the blue of the sky just before dusk.

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One wet spring she found two pips caught in the drain trap, black as a boot heel, with threads coming off them like the legs of a daddy longlegs. She didn't know what they were. Her husband Ansel said they were nothing, only mud and paint skin. She pressed them into the bed under the sweet peas anyway, because she was a woman who did not like being told what was nothing.

By August the threads had crept through the soil and found the sink's runoff. Wherever they touched the colour, they took it up and carried it outward, so the bed beneath the pair bloomed in a long rainbow smear, red near the wall, purple where the roots ran down toward the gutter. Ansel stopped calling them nothing. He stood at the glass each morning with his tea going cold, counting the tendrils.

When Hester died, the seeds were still black at their hearts, and the colour had gone soft at the edges like wet paper. In autumn Ansel dug one up to see what lay beneath. There was only a clean white stone, so he put it back exactly where it had been, and the two of them have been spreading ever since. Mind the gate on your way out. It sticks, and it always has.