Black fine line tattoo of a dandelion dissolving into flying birds, with script lettering running along the upper shoulder and chest.

Dandelion seeds becoming birds with script on shoulder

Fine line · Shoulder · Black and grey · Photo

A dandelion clock on the left dissolves into small birds that fly along a curved trail towards the right of the shoulder. Script lettering in black ink runs beneath the birds, and parts of the quote are legible. The linework is fine and the ink is black and grey, shown against soft skin and a dark bra strap.

Fine line Lettering Botanical Shoulder Dandelion Seed Bird Flight Script Quote Wing

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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

Right, shush now, and sit where I can see your faces. You want the one about the dandelion on the fourteenth floor, do you? Well. Back when they still let the wind in through the stairwells, there was a clock growing out of the crack in the car park wall, bold as you like, and every morning Mr Okonedo from flat nine went down to look at it like it owed him rent.

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Thing is, that clock had a lad watching it too. Kieran Dunne, nine years old, wanted to pick it for his mum's birthday. Said a dandelion was a wish you could hold. So one windy Saturday he crept down with a jam jar and got the stalk in his fist, and the whole head went up in the air like someone had shaken out a sheet. He stood there with his mouth open. Seeds everywhere, over the bins, over the bus shelter, over his own trainers.

And then, mind, the seeds didn't drop. They turned. Every one of them filled out into a little bird, grey and quick, and off they went along the wall in a long curl, past the laundry window, up over the roof, looking back at him the way starlings do. Kieran never told a soul what he saw that day except his nan, and she only said, well, you've been given a job then, haven't you.

The last one stayed behind. Still a seed, no bigger than a fingernail, caught on the outside of the window of flat fourteen where the glass was dirty. Kieran's mum never did get her birthday wish. But she always said that window was the cleanest thing on the block, after that. Now what's the time? Off to bed.