Black and grey geometric tattoo of an eye inside a circle and diamond frame with radiating lines, on the upper back.

Eye within a geometric diamond on the upper back

Geometric · Back · Black and grey · Photo

A single eye sits inside a circle at the centre of a layered diamond outline, with dashed inner lines, small dots and fine rays extending outward. The linework is crisp and the diamond's shaded areas are built from stippled dots, giving a soft grey gradient. The tattoo is in black ink only and sits centred on the upper back, with the top of the shoulders and neck visible and the head cropped out of the frame.

Geometric Dotwork Back Eye Diamond Circle Ray Dot Geometric shape Line

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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

Now sit down, sit, the wasps are at the windfalls and they'll not trouble you if you keep still. You want to hear about old Ambrose Pell and his sighting glass, the one he carried up and down Hollin Lane orchard the summer the rain forgot us. He was a surveyor's man for the county, sent to mark out the trees for grafting, every row laid to a diamond on the paper so the light would reach the fruit from all sides.

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He wasn't a man for talk. He'd stand in the rows at noon with his brass level screwed to its tripod, put his eye to the little round window, and count. Dots for the apples he could see, dashes for the ones hidden in the leaves. The rays, he said, were the sun's own fingers, drawn out so he'd remember where the shade fell. Folk laughed at him. Mabel Corrin, who kept the bees, said he'd looked through that glass so long the glass had started looking back.

Then one evening the diamond he'd drawn came out wrong. Every row fell a hair short on the north side, and the eye he'd set in the middle of the drawing seemed to stare straight at the one tree nobody would cut. He walked out at dusk with a lantern and lowered the level to the old pear, the one split by lightning, and in its hollow he found a second glass, cracked, with a bee's wing pressed flat against it.

He never said what it showed him. He only said the orchard was true again after that, and every apple came in sound. Mind the step on your way out, love. That pear is still standing, and it's still looking.