Black and grey dotwork mandala tattoo centred between the shoulder blades on a person's upper back, photographed from behind.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Mandala tattoo on upper back

Dotwork · Back · Black and grey · Photo

A black and grey photograph of a person seen from behind, with a radial mandala tattoo between the shoulder blades. The mandala has a central rosette surrounded by layered petal shapes and fine ornamental detail. Shading is built from stippled dots, and the monochrome composition places the tattoo at the centre of the frame with the subject's dreadlocked hair pinned up above it.

Dotwork Geometric Back Mandala Flower Petal

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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

Sit down, the lot of you, and mind the crisp packet. No, not that chair, that one has Mrs Okafor's cat in it and she'll have your eyes out. Right. Fourteenth floor of Carrow House, the year the lift broke for the third time that winter, and a lad called Tobias Wren who could draw anything you asked him with a biro and a bit of patience.

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He drew the flat roofs of the estate for the council, he drew the bus times on the stairwell wall, and then one night he drew a flower on the back of his own hand so he'd stop biting his nails. It came out the size of a coin, all petals inside petals, a rosette at the heart. Next morning the old woman on twelve, Irene Callaghan, saw it and asked him to do one on her kitchen window in washing-up liquid, because she wanted to see the light come through the middle of it when the sun got up over the car park.

He did. Every dot of it, pressed with the end of a knitting needle, a thousand little stipples like rain that had decided to stop and think. The sun came through the centre at six each morning and threw a star across her lino, and she'd stand in it with her tea going cold, saying nothing, which for Irene was a sermon.

And when they knocked the block down in the spring, nobody thought to scrape the glass. So if you go out past the retail park now, where the pylons stand, look for a bit of window in the scrubland with the dew still on it. Hold your palm up to the sun and see whether the light finds the middle. It does. It always did, for her.