Black and grey dreamcatcher tattoo on an upper arm, with an ornamental floral design on the forearm and flowers on the shoulder.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Dreamcatcher and ornamental arm tattoos

Upper arm · Black and grey · Photo

A close crop of a torso and arms showing several black tattoos. A dreamcatcher with hanging feathers runs down the upper arm, and a dense ornamental floral design with scrollwork wraps across the forearm. Fine shading and linework appear across the upper arm and shoulder, and the image has no colour ink.

Upper arm Forearm Shoulder Dreamcatcher Feather Flower Ornamental Scrollwork

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

Ruth had the ovens lit by ten to four, which was the only thing about the shop that had ever gone to plan. The flour sacks were still stacked against the back wall where the delivery lad had left them, and the sky over the car park was the colour of wet slate.

Keep reading

Dev came in at twenty past, hood up, smelling of the night bus. He had a sketchbook under his arm and wanted to know if he could pipe the lattice on the morning buns himself. She told him he could pipe nothing until he had folded a hundred laminated croissants without tearing the butter. He laughed, and then he stopped, because she had not been joking.

By five the first trays were cooling on the racks and the shop smelt of burnt sugar and yeast. Dev sat on an upturned crate and drew the thing he could not stop drawing: a net of feathers looped on a ring of twine, turning above a bed. He said his nan had hung one over his cot. Ruth told him to draw the bread instead, because bread did not need catching anything.

At half past six the light came grey through the steamed glass. Dev held up his page, and the feathers had become loaves, and the twine had become a line of dough curling round the edges. Ruth studied it for a long time, then pinned it above the proving cupboard with a flour-dusted thumb. "Nothing gets out of here that we didn't mean to make," she said, and went to unlock the door.