Black ink drawing of the Om symbol centred in a lotus-petal mandala with dotted and scalloped detailing, drawn as a tattoo design on paper.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Om symbol in a lotus mandala

Geometric · Black and grey · Flash

A black ink drawing of the Om symbol at the centre of a radially symmetrical mandala. Layered lotus petals, scalloped rings and rows of dots surround the central symbol. The linework is uniform and bold, with the dotted detail used for texture, and the image is entirely black and white on a pale background.

Geometric Dotwork Om Mandala Lotus Petal Symbol Dot Scallop

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

In Hollin Drift the roof talked. Old Abel Teague said it was the stone settling, the young lads said it was wind coming down the shafts, but everyone agreed that when the props groaned at the far end the men stopped their picks and waited. Abel had a way of stopping it. He would sit on an upturned tub at the face and hum one long low note with his mouth shut, until the timbers quietened like a dog that hears its name.

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A stranger came down in the spring of the big wet. Nobody knew where he had come from. He wore a surveyor's coat and carried a roll of paper, and he sat beside Abel in the lamplight and drew a flower with more petals than any flower grew above ground. In the middle he set a sign like a three with a curl on top and a dot above it. Abel asked what it meant. The stranger said it was the sound before sound, the one the roof had been trying to make all along.

Abel laughed and took the drawing home. He pinned it above the kettle. When the drift was sealed with brick and the men carried their tools up the bank one by one, Abel went on humming in the back kitchen, and his house did not shift once through that winter, though the cottages either side cracked from chimney to footing.

On the last morning his grandson Tom found the paper curled under the grate, scorched along one petal. He smoothed it flat on the table and counted the dots round the rings. Forty-eight, he made it. He began to hum, badly, and somewhere under the hill, very faintly, something hummed back.