Lower back tattoo of a dreamcatcher with dark feathers, flanked by two black tribal-style bands, shown in a close photograph of the skin.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Dreamcatcher with tribal bands on lower back

Back · Mixed · Photo

A dreamcatcher with a woven web, hanging feathers and a small teal accent sits at the centre of the design, flanked on each side by a black tribal-style band. The feathers and web are shaded in soft greys with a little colour, while the bands are solid black with fine interior detailing. The tattoo is framed horizontally across the lower back, with a dark waistband below.

Back Dreamcatcher Feather Web Tribal pattern Band

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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

Sit down, sit closer, the fire's only good for the one of us. You want the end of the Marvello Brothers? Then listen, because I'll not tell it twice and the wind off the Fens won't wait for me. The big top came down in Wisbech the spring the elephant died, and the canvas went to a farmer who used it to cover his hay. Nobody bought the wagons. Nobody bought Ada either, and she was the best rope-walker in three counties.

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Ada slept in the last caravan with a dreamcatcher hung from the roof hook, a hoop of willow bent by her grandmother's hands, its web drawn tight as a spider's good week. Feathers dangled from it, grey and dun, and one teal one she'd taken from a parrot that died of boredom in Lincoln. Every night she told the web her worries. Mostly she told it about money. The web caught nothing but moths.

One night in October the guy ropes started singing in the wind and she could not sleep. She climbed out onto the roof with a lamp and walked the ridge-pole as if she were twenty again, arms out, feathers snapping at her cheek. Halfway along she stopped, looked down at the empty field, and laughed so loud a dog answered from a farm two miles off.

In the morning she sold the caravan, the hoop and all, to a lad from Ely who wanted something for his bedroom wall. She kept one feather. It is in my waistcoat pocket now, and when the wind is wrong I take it out and tell it what the circus used to be, and it catches every word.