Colour tattoo of the Little Prince standing on a galaxy-filled planet with stars, in fine line and watercolour-style shading, on a person's upper back.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Little Prince on a galaxy planet

Fine line · Back · Colour · Photo

A small figure in a scarf stands on top of a round planet, with a few stars and small orbs drawn around it in fine black linework. The planet is filled with blended teal, blue, green, yellow and pink shading that gives a nebula effect, with a thin outline around its edge. The tattoo is centred on the upper back and sits on freckled skin.

Fine line Back Planet Galaxy Star Scarf Nebula Space

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

The glassworks on Fenner Lane smelled of scorched sugar and cold coal, and Ivy Holt had been told twice that week to stop tapping the kiln door. She was nine. Her grandfather, Albert, had promised her a moon for her birthday and had not yet decided how to make one. He pulled a jar of cullet from the shelf, glass offcuts he had saved for forty years, and tipped out teal, bruise-blue, a green like pond weed, a yellow he got from sulphur, and a pink that came from gold and cost more than the rent.

Keep reading

The trick, he told her, was to let the colours quarrel and not mix. He gathered a blob on the pipe, rolled it through the colours, and blew until the ball swelled and turned the room's light into something deep and wet. Ivy asked where a little boy in a yellow scarf would stand if he lived on a planet no bigger than their back yard. Albert said the highest point, where the wind was worst and the view was best, and that the boy would keep sweeping the same three volcanoes every morning because a small world needs tending.

The globe cooled with a flat patch on one side, a scar where it had rested on the bench. Albert's hands shook as he reached for the diamond scribe, and Ivy took it from him without asking. On the flat ridge she scratched a figure no taller than a grain of rice, with a scarf that trailed off into the stars. Her grandfather looked at it for a long time and said the scar was where the light would catch.

The globe hangs now in the front window of the boarding house on the seafront, where the morning sun comes through the pink and the teal. On dark nights it throws its galaxy across the ceiling of room four. Guests come down to breakfast and ask who made the little planet, and Ivy tells them the truth: her grandfather made the world, and she only stood on top of it for a while.