Black ink geometric mandala tattoo on the outer thigh of a seated person wearing a white T-shirt, with a bedroom floor in the background.

Black mandala tattoo on a thigh

Geometric · Thigh · Black and grey · Photo

A black ink mandala sits on the outer thigh of a seated person in a loose white T-shirt. The design has a central rosette surrounded by layered petal shapes, arches and ornamental bands, drawn with fine, even linework and some solid fills. The photograph is taken indoors on a carpeted floor, with the tattoo as the clear focus against tanned skin.

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

No, don't step on the centre, love, that's where Mrs Tregenza kept her husband's compass. Sit on the bottom stair and I'll tell you how the hall came to be laid like that. It was the spring the Kittiwake went out past the harbour wall and didn't come back. She went up to Bristol on the train with a cardboard tube under her arm and came home with a catalogue of tile patterns and a face like pressed linen. She chose the one with the rosette in the middle, round as a ship's wheel, with petals opening out from it, then arches and bands like a garden railing all the way to the skirting.

Keep reading

I asked her once what it meant. She said a pattern like that was a map of the inside of a person, every ring a room you had to walk through to reach the small bright middle. I said that was a lot to ask of ceramic. She just laughed and said the middle was where she kept him, and that she'd walk the rings every morning with the mop, slow, so she'd not miss a petal.

She did that for thirty-one years. Lodgers came and went across those tiles with sand on their boots, and not one of them stood on the centre without her calling out. When the house sold, the new people wanted the hall ripped up, and the man with the van quoted a week's work. Mrs Tregenza was by then in a chair by the front window, wrapped in a blanket that smelt of camphor. Take the rest if you must, she said, but leave the middle.

They left the middle. It's there yet, under the coat hooks, twelve petals, chipped on the north side where the wind used to come under the door. Go on, stand on it. You'll not hurt her. She was tougher than the tiles.

More like this

From the plentytattoo archive, uploaded by a user. Is this your work? Ask for credit or removal.