Small blue jellyfish tattoo with soft watercolour-style shading on the side of a person's neck, behind the ear.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Blue jellyfish tattoo on the neck

Neck · Colour · Photo

A small jellyfish with a rounded bell and trailing tentacles is tattooed on the side of the neck, close to the ear. The bell and tentacles are filled with soft, blended blue shading with faint darker outlines, giving a watercolour effect. The tattoo sits alone against pale skin, with a dangling bead earring and a blurred wooden background in the frame.

Neck Jellyfish Sea creature Ocean

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 Marvellous Deep was a tent with a tank in it, and the tank held one jellyfish, which my father called Mrs Pell because she reminded him of the landlady in Margate. We towed her from Ramsgate to Deal to Whitstable on the back of a lorry, the water slopping over the rim at every bend, and each night I topped her up from a churn and told the punters she had come from the bottom of the Channel, where no light ever reached.

Keep reading

She was not much to look at under the bulbs. Her bell was the blue of a gas flame at its hottest, and when the generator coughed and the lights dipped, she seemed to glow from inside, trailing her threads like wet ribbon. A boy from the coconut shy once pressed his face to the glass until his breath fogged it, and he asked me whether she was sad. I told him she was only waiting for the tide, which was what my father said about everything.

The autumn the fair stopped at Herne Bay, the generator died for good and the tent flooded in the night. In the grey morning I found the tank cracked along one seam and the water already thinning into the grass. Mrs Pell lay on the duckboards, her bell softened to a faint wash of colour. I carried her down to the shingle in a bucket, past the sleeping rides and the painted horses, and tipped her into the first wave that came hissing up the stones.

She hung there a moment, as if deciding, then unfurled and was gone under the grey water. I stood with the empty bucket until the cold got into my shoes. Walking back up the front, with the bunting snapping above me, I caught myself touching the side of my neck, as if something blue and light had settled there and would not be shaken loose.