Black dotwork and linework tattoo of a tent, pine trees, a campfire and stars on a person's upper back.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Camping scene on upper back

Dotwork · Back · Black and grey · Photo

A circular camping scene shows a tent with stippled shading, a row of pine trees behind it, and a campfire with flames on the left. Small star shapes sit around the outline, and a stump with a cup rests on horizontal ground lines at the bottom. The work is done in black ink only, with fine lines and dense dots creating the shading, and the design is centred on the upper back.

Dotwork Back Tent Camping Pine tree Campfire Star Cup

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

Mind the stump, love, it has been sitting at the edge of that shingle since before my father's day, and it has never once moved for anyone. Sit on the side where the smoke goes the other way. The summer the big gale took the pines along Loch Ailig, Ada Fenwick pitched her canvas tent on the only flat ground left, and she set her tin cup on the stump because it was the nearest thing to a table. The rain had stopped for the first time in a week, so she counted stars until she lost track at forty.

Keep reading

Each evening she fed the fire with dry birch she'd dragged from the fallen trunks, and she kept the flames low so the ranger's launch wouldn't see the smoke and come asking for permits. On the fourth night a man rowed across from the far shore with a tin of oatcakes and asked for a light for his pipe. He never gave his name. He said the loch had a habit of keeping what it was given and returning only what it didn't want, and then he laughed at his own joke and rowed away before the kettle boiled.

On the last morning she packed the tent, scrubbed the cup with sand, and left it upright on the stump, filled with clean rainwater. When she came back up the track in October, the cup was still there, the water had been changed, and a fresh oatcake sat beside it under a flat grey stone. Pencilled on the tent flap she'd forgotten to take down was a single line in a careful hand: same time next year, if the pines hold.