Black dotwork mandala tattoo with peacock feather motifs covering the inner forearm of a person standing on a stone street.

Mandala and peacock feather forearm tattoo

Dotwork · Forearm · Black and grey · Photo

A large circular mandala with a central rosette and radiating petals fills the inner forearm, with peacock feather eye motifs around the outer edge. The design is built from fine dots and lines with solid black accents, giving it a detailed, symmetrical pattern. Only black ink and grey tones are visible, and the arm is shown against a pale stone pavement with pedestrians in the background.

Dotwork Geometric Forearm Mandala Peacock feather Rosette Eye Petal Medallion

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 pattern book your grandmother kept was older than the pit, and it had a feather pressed flat between its pages, a blue-green eye gone the colour of weak tea. Nobody in Hollin Bank asked what you were copying when you sat at the scullery table with a nib and a rule. You told them lace. You told them it was for the chapel fair.

Keep reading

The circle always began at the centre. You drew the rosette first, eight petals opening round a dot, then ringed it with smaller petals until the paper seemed to breathe. Outside that came the feathers, one eye after another, each a little ring with a black pupil, because your grandmother said a village with a mine under it needs something awake on its edges. The men went down at six and the gallery was dark by seven, so every evening you pricked the finished sheet with a pin and pressed it to the window, letting the lamplight from the lane come through the holes.

In March the cage stuck at the Hollin shaft and nobody came up for two days. Your mother walked to the top of the bank with the drawing folded inside her coat, and when the wind turned she unfolded it and held it up against the lamps on the headgear. You watched her turn it slowly, the eyes catching the light one after another, the way a shift boss counts heads.

On the third morning the men came up grey and whole. Nobody mentioned the drawing. But the old man from the lamp room asked for a copy, and you gave him one, and he pinned it above the winch where every man would pass beneath it on the way down.