Colour tattoo of a white masked character face inside a pink, blue and green mandala of petals and leaves, on the upper thigh.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Masked face within a mandala on a thigh

Neo-trad · Thigh · Colour · Photo

A white masked face with black almond-shaped eyes and a small dark mouth sits at the centre of a symmetrical mandala. The mandala is made of layered pink, blue and teal petals with green leaves, outlined in black. The shading is smooth and blended, and the design fills a rounded area of thigh skin.

Neo-trad Geometric Thigh Mask Face Mandala Lotus Petal Leaves

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

Tamsin had been ferrying the lamp boat across Lessing Mere for eleven winters when the stranger stepped off the reed bank without a sound. Its face was a smooth white oval with two black slits for eyes and a mouth no bigger than a thumbprint. The old boatwives said such things rose from the lotus beds when the water grew too warm. She had never believed them until it sat down on her thwart and held out a single silver coin.

Keep reading

"Where to?" she asked. It pointed one long finger toward the middle of the mere, where the lotus fields opened in rings of pink and blue, their teal-green leaves lying flat on the black water like the spokes of a wheel. She rowed. The petals rose as the boat passed, each one lit from beneath by the lanterns on her prow, and the stranger leaned out and touched them one by one, leaving no ripple behind.

At the heart of the bloom there was only a shallow pool and a reflection that did not quite match the face above it. The stranger drew a folded square of paper from its sleeve and set it on the water. Tamsin knew the handwriting before she could read a word. It was her mother's, and it held the sentences her mother had said aloud every evening before she died but never once written down. Tamsin's oars stopped. The stranger simply waited, patient as the flowers.

She took the coin in the end, and the mask tilted, pleased or perhaps only still. When she rowed back at dawn the lanterns were out and every lotus had folded shut around its own dark centre, and on the landing stage a second silver coin lay waiting in the wet boards, bright as a promise nobody had made.