Two matching neo-traditional tattoos of a night camping scene with mountains, pines, a tent and a campfire, sitting on the upper arms of two people.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Matching camping scene on two upper arms

Neo-trad · Upper arm · Mixed · Photo

Two arms sit side by side, each carrying the same tattoo: a night scene of snow-capped mountains, tall pine trees and a small tent beside a campfire with rising smoke, all set inside a cloud-shaped frame. The linework is bold and dark, with solid blue sky, grey shading on the mountains and trees, and small yellow accents on the flame and stars. The two pieces are mirrored in placement and framed closely, with the arms angled toward each other.

Neo-trad Upper arm Camping Tent Campfire Mountain Pine tree Night sky Star Smoke Matching tattoo

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 fire had been dead for an hour when Nell admitted she had lost the map. It lay open on the groundsheet between their boots, its folds gone soft from forty years in her father's rucksack, and the only line it still showed clearly was the dotted track over the north ridge, which neither of them had reached. Tom suggested again that they simply follow the river, which he had said twice already, and Nell reminded him that the river ended in a bog, a fact he had supplied himself in the pub.

Keep reading

He grinned at the tent instead of her. Above them the sky had gone the deep blue of ink left on a windowsill, and the first stars were pricking through, as sharp as the yellow dots Nell's gran used to stitch onto tea towels. Smoke still curled from the ashes, thin and white, as if the fire had decided to keep one small promise. Nell watched it climb past the pines and thought the mountains behind were too pale to be real, snow on the peaks like icing sugar dusted over a cake.

They packed at first light without saying much. Tom carried the stove and Nell carried the stubborn map, folded the wrong way out. By nine they stood at the edge of the bog, and the river, which had seemed so sensible the night before, had split into four sulking channels. Tom laughed until he had to sit down on a rock. Nell didn't laugh, but she did fold the map the right way round.

Later, in the car park, she unrolled it again and found, pencilled in the margin in her father's cramped capitals, a small tent and a flame. He had marked where they should camp, on the flat ground above the pines, exactly where they had slept last night. Nell laughed then, and it came out like the smoke, sideways and white, and she didn't mind at all.