Black linework and dotwork mountain peaks with a purple triangle beneath them, tattooed on a woman's upper back near the shoulder blade.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Geometric mountain tattoo on upper back

Geometric · Back · Mixed · Photo

A small mountain range is drawn in fine black linework with dotwork shading on the shaded faces and base. Beneath the peaks sit overlapping triangles, one filled with solid purple and others shaded with dots and horizontal lines. The design is centred on the upper back, shown against a plain white background with the subject's hair and a navy top in frame.

Geometric Dotwork Back Mountain Peak Triangle Geometric shape Landscape

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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

Shift nearer the range, love, and mind the kettle, for you'll not hear this properly with your teeth chattering. My grandmother's grandmother farmed under those peaks, and she swore there were only ever three of them, no matter what the weather did. The tallest was the Ewe, the next the Ram, and the low black one at the end was the Cradle, where nothing grew and a lamb could be left in the hollow without a fox finding it.

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The winter her son Tomas turned sixteen, the snow came so early that the sheep were still on the high pasture. He went up with a dog and a lantern and didn't come back by dark. Old Agnes at the top farm said the mountains had taken him for their own. At dusk the slopes below the peaks went violet, then speckled grey as the frost settled, then ruled in thin lines where the wind combed the snow flat.

Tomas walked down at first light, grey to the eyebrows, and said he'd gone as far as the Cradle and found nothing there but a stone with three cut faces. He had climbed to see what the mountains looked like from behind, and from behind they were only triangles, pinned flat to the sky like paper cut for a Christmas window. He laughed at himself all through breakfast, but he never went up past the Ewe again.

So his mother took an old tin lid, cut it into a triangle, painted it violet with the last of the blue dye, and nailed it above the byre door. When the fog came down thick enough to hide the Ram, she told him, you only had to look for the purple corner and walk towards it, and you'd be home before the ewes had finished complaining.