Realistic pink lotus flower tattoo on the upper back, with soft shading that makes the petals look three-dimensional on a woman's skin.

Pink lotus on upper back

Realism · Back · Colour · Photo

A pink lotus flower with layered, curled petals and an orange centre sits in the middle of the upper back, with brown shading behind it to suggest depth. The linework is soft and the petals are rendered with fine gradations of pink, red and white. The back is shown from behind against a plain pale background, with the head cropped out and a thin necklace and patterned dress straps visible.

Realism Botanical Back Lotus Flower Petal Pink flower

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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 pram wheel. Right, you want the one about the pond under Calder House. You'll say there was never a pond there, and you're right, there's only the car park now. Before that there was rubble, and before the rubble there was the marsh that the council drained in nineteen sixty-one because they wanted something tall and grey instead of something wet and green. My nan used to say the marsh didn't go anywhere. It just went down to wait.

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Eleven years ago a girl called Marisol Tanner came up from the Thames side with a carrier bag of seeds from her grandad's allotment, and she was the only one who believed the old lotus stories. Nobody else had read them. She put the seeds in a washing-up bowl on the walkway outside flat forty, filled it with muck from the bins, and everyone laughed. Mr Okafor from thirty-two kicked it by accident once and said sorry to the bowl.

The seeds sat there a whole summer doing nothing. Then one morning in July a pink point came up through the brown water, and by the afternoon it had opened, its petals curled at the edges as if they'd been folded in a drawer, the middle gone orange as a pilot light. People came up in their dressing gowns to look. Even the lads from the stairwell stood quiet.

So that's the story, and I won't tell you what it means, because my nan would have clipped me round the ear for moralising. Go on, off you go. Mind the bowl. It's still there, and it's still flowering.