Black ink line drawing of a dreamcatcher with a spiral web, beads and three feathers hanging below, drawn as a flash design for a tattoo.

Dreamcatcher with three feathers

Fine line · Black and grey · Flash

A pen and ink drawing of a dreamcatcher with a circular hoop wrapped in fine hatched lines, a spiral web of thin strands with small round beads, and three feathers hanging from beaded cords below. The feathers are shaded with dense hatching and sharp, toothed edges, and the beads are drawn with small highlights. The drawing is entirely black linework on a plain white background, centred and easy to read as a standalone design.

Fine line Dreamcatcher Feather Spiderweb Bead Hoop

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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

The hoop was the first thing I ever made that my father didn't laugh at. I bent willow from the stream behind the chapel, bound it round with waxed twine until my knuckles bled, and then spent three nights on the web. Nobody in Porthcarrow knew what it was for. I told them it kept the flies off the boat.

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The feathers came from the harbour wall. A grey gull feather from the morning Ruth Carne's husband didn't come in. A glossy jackdaw feather a boy dropped outside the chandler's. The third I plucked from the magpie that screamed at the fish market every Tuesday, and it bit me for my trouble. I hung them from cord with a handful of blue glass beads from my mother's sewing tin, then fixed the whole thing in the wheelhouse of the Morwenna May, facing the sea.

The storm came in off the Lizard on a Thursday, the sort that peels paint. Tom was out past the outer buoy with the nets still down. I sat in the kitchen with the wireless hissing and watched the lamp jump in the window, and I did not sleep, which I suppose was the whole point. He came in at dawn with the boat low and his face grey, and said he had dreamt of nothing at all, only a long corridor with a light at the far end that kept moving away.

The jackdaw feather was gone from the cord when I went down to check. I found it a week later on the slip, sodden, pressed into the weed. I tied it back on with a fresh knot. The web, I noticed, had caught one strand of Tom's hair, and I left it where it was.