Mandala tattoo on the thigh

Geometric · Thigh · Black and grey · Photo

A large mandala with a central rosette and radiating petal shapes sits on the side of the thigh, with scrolling loops and dotted detail trailing out from its lower edge. The design is drawn in fine black lines with stippled shading, and it is shown in a warm-toned photo with no colour ink. The composition is cropped at the hip, with a dark garment above the tattoo and a hand resting on the upper leg.

Geometric Thigh Mandala Flower Rosette

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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

The wind came through the rose window the way water finds a crack in a boot, and my uncle Tobias said it had been doing so since the roof went in the winter his own grandfather was a boy. We were on the scaffold boards at Carrick Hollin with the castle's broken east end below us, a chisel in one hand and a pot of lime mortar going cold in the other. The rose was the only thing left whole in that wall: twelve petals of worked stone cut around a rosette no wider than a dinner plate, and between the petals a scatter of small round holes where the lead had once held the coloured glass.

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Tobias wanted the petals reset before the frost. I wanted to know who had bored the holes. They were too regular to be weathering, each one drilled and then spaced with a compass, and every fourth one had a tiny notch cut beside it like a fish-hook. I asked him on the second morning and he only shrugged and said masons had always left their names where nobody would think to read them.

On the last afternoon the low sun came out of the west and found the gaps in the stone. The light did not fall on the flagstones, as I had expected. It came through the holes and landed on the wall opposite in dots, a ring of small bright coins joined by the scroll of carving below them. I stood very still and counted them. There were thirty-one, and the thirty-second spot was the centre of the rosette, the one place the stone had never been asked to let light through. I stepped sideways to see it better, and my own shadow fell across the ring, and for a moment the whole pattern went dark as though someone had closed a hand over it.