Black and grey photograph of two fingers with thin solid bands and scattered small dots tattooed across the finger, placed on the hand.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Finger bands and dots in black and grey

Dotwork · Hand · Black and grey · Photo

The photo shows two fingers of a hand resting on a dark textured surface, with thin solid black bands wrapping around the fingers. Small scattered dots and short dashes sit between the bands on the middle and lower finger. The image is in black and white, with soft lighting and a close crop that focuses on the tattoo work.

Dotwork Hand Band Dot Line Finger

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

Right, sit down, the lot of you, and mind the pigeon on the stairs, he's had a hard week. Forty-one floors Kestrel House had, and the lift between seven and eight was the one that liked to stop. My mum used to say it had a mind of its own, and it did, because it only ever stopped when somebody was in a hurry.

Keep reading

One wet Tuesday in nineteen seventy-nine, a girl called Maureen Ashby got stuck in it with a bag of washing and a man in a brown coat who would not stop humming. She didn't panic. She was the sort who counted things. She pressed her thumb against the cold steel of the wall and tapped out what her brother had taught her from the wireless set, short and long, dot and dash, because he'd said that if the lift ever went you'd want a way to tell people you were still there.

Down in the boiler room, an old engineer called Stan heard the tapping come through the pipes. He didn't know Morse. Nobody did any more except his late wife's uncle, who'd been a telegraph man in Hull. So they sent for the uncle, who was ninety and carried a kitchen chair up nine flights, and he sat on the landing and listened to those dots and dashes come through the iron like rain on a tin roof.

He wrote it down on the back of a rent card. It was only two words, STILL HERE, and the man in the brown coat was the first to say it back. Forty years on, the lads from the flats above still go down and tap on that wall when they're stuck, just to let someone know they're there.