Black and grey photograph of a small fine line dandelion tattoo with a long stem on the inner wrist and forearm.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Fine line dandelion on the inner wrist

Fine line · Forearm · Black and grey · Photo

A small dandelion with a seed head of fine radiating lines sits at the top of a long, thin stem on the inner wrist and forearm. The linework is delicate and mostly single-weight, with very little shading. The monochrome photo is taken against a plain pale background, with the hand hanging open in the foreground and the sleeve of a striped top at the edge of the frame.

Fine line Botanical Forearm Dandelion Flower Stem Seed head

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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 up a bit, love, and mind that drip. No, I'm not going anywhere. Night porters don't go anywhere until the sun comes up over the car park. You asked about the weeds by the bins, so I'll tell you what my nan told me about those.

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She grew up in a terrace in Grimsby where the dandelions came up through the cobbles like they'd paid rent. Her dad used to pick a clock, that white ball on its long thin stem, and carry it home like a lantern. Every seed on it was a wish, he said, and the trick was to get them all off in one breath. He never managed it. He'd puff and half of them would stay stuck to his moustache and the other half would go off over the rooftops towards the docks, where the ships were.

One March the clock was the last of the season, and he gave it to Nan with the stem still long and green. She blew, and the seeds went everywhere, into the washing and the coal bucket and the open window of the chip shop. One stayed on her father's coat sleeve. He never blew it off. He folded it into his wallet, and it was still in there when he died, flat and grey as a tooth. Nan said that was the wish he kept for himself.

Now hush, and see if you can count the stars through that gap in the blind. When you've got to thirty, you tell me, and I'll tell you what the last seed wished for.