Blue line tattoo of a dreamcatcher with feathers and pink and purple flowers on the outer thigh.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Dreamcatcher and flowers on a thigh

Thigh · Colour · Photo

A dark blue outlined dreamcatcher with a woven web, beaded ring and three feathers sits on the outer thigh, with a cluster of purple and pink flowers at the lower edge. The linework is bold and even, with the web filled in with fine blue lines and light shading on the feathers. The composition runs diagonally up the leg, with the design framed against plain skin and a soft, slightly blurred background.

Thigh Dreamcatcher Feather Flower Web Circle Bead

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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

You find the dreamcatcher on the gallery rail the morning after the gale, hooked over the brass handle of the lamp room door as if someone meant to keep it out of the weather. It is your grandmother's, a willow hoop wound in blue thread and strung with three grey gull feathers. Nobody on Carrick Skerry remembers who taught her the pattern, only that she sold nothing and gave most of it away.

Keep reading

The lamp has been dark since the storm cracked the lens. Mr Pringle from the board wrote that a replacement would come by spring, and until then the rock must be watched from the cottage window with a telescope and a lot of patience. You take the ring down and hold it up to the sky. Through the web the horizon breaks into a hundred small pieces, and in each piece there is a ship that is not there.

You hang it back on the rail anyway, facing the water, the way she used to. The web catches what the sea throws up at night: fog, cold, the wrong sort of silence. By dawn the threads are beaded with salt, and the feathers have stopped stirring. Nothing has come to the rocks.

In the morning the feathers have turned and point north, towards the mainland harbour. You untie the ring, wrap it in oilcloth and tuck it inside your coat. Then you take the oars down to the boat, and somewhere past the Skerry a bell is ringing, slow and uncertain, and you row towards it.