Black line tattoo of seven chakra symbols stacked down the centre of a person's back, each in a lotus or mandala ring, with a lotus flower at the base.

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Seven chakra symbols stacked down the spine

Botanical · Back · Black and grey · Photo

A bare back shows seven chakra symbols arranged in a vertical column along the spine, each set within a circular lotus or mandala outline. The symbols use fine, even black linework with a few inner Sanskrit-style marks, and the column ends with an open lotus flower at the base. The composition is centred and symmetrical, with the ink in black only against smooth skin.

Botanical Geometric Back Lotus Mandala Om Spine

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Ewan had the lead line across his knees for the third time that morning, and the marks still would not sit right. Old Ansel Rourke watched from his creel by the boathouse door, pipe gone cold, while the boy's fingers fumbled with the sailmaker's twine. There were seven marks to renew before the Saturday crossing to Skerra's sister isle, each one a fathom apart and each one wound in a different material so a man could read the depth by touch in the dark. Leather for the first fathom, white rag for the second, red wool, then blue, then a tarred yarn that smelt of the harbour wall.

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Ansel had taught him the names as a boy, the way his own father had taught them to him. You called the depths by feel, not by sight, because the bay went black by four in winter and the men sounded it blind. The sixth mark was a plain knot and the seventh was the one that mattered. Ewan had asked once why the last fathom wore a little bloom of whipped cord, six petals packed tight around a centre, and Ansel had only said that the bottom was where the lead came to rest, and that a sensible man stopped there and listened.

That evening Ewan took the boat out alone to sound the channel. The tide was turning and the light was going orange on the water. He paid the line out slowly, counting marks through his palm, leather, rag, wool, blue, yarn, knot. The bloom came up under his fingers, and he let it run until the lead touched sand and the line went slack in his hands. He sat still and heard only water knocking against the hull. Then he hauled it in, and the whipped cord was dark and wet against his skin, opening like a flower that had been waiting for him all along.