Black and grey band tattoo on the forearm with stippled shading that suggests a treeline and a small dot above it.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Shaded landscape band tattoo on forearm

Blackwork · Forearm · Black and grey · Photo

A narrow band tattoo wraps around the forearm, filled with dark shading that fades into lighter grey at the lower edge and resembles a distant treeline or ridge. A small white dot sits within the upper part of the band. The shading is soft and textured, with the body photographed against a dark background on one side and a pale wall on the other.

Blackwork Dotwork Forearm Armband Band Landscape Dot

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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 yourself down by the range, love, you're letting the draught in. No, the other chair, the one that doesn't wobble. There. You've been staring at that ridge out of my front window since Tuesday, so you'll want to hear what's on it.

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His name was Ambrose Tull, and he came to Hollin Bay in the wet October of 1931 with one trunk and a tin of pencils he never let anyone else sharpen. He took the attic room for the view of the cliffs and the dark line of pines behind them, and every evening he sat at the sill and drew that same strip of hills, end to end, never more than a finger's width high. The landlady before me said he went through paper like a bakery goes through flour.

Then one night the sea fog came in so thick the pines just vanished, and Ambrose stormed down to the parlour swearing he'd lost his whole county. Next morning he went up to the top floor, and when the mist lifted there was one light showing on the far ridge, a single window in the old coastguard hut. He drew that light as a dot of nothing, a speck he left bare white on the paper, and said it was the only true thing he'd ever put down. Not long after, a travelling needleman in Scarborough inked that same ridge round his forearm, so he'd always have the hills with him.

When they cleared his room they found every drawing pinned to the wall, and the white dot had been rubbed so hard it had worn a hole through the paper. Here's my bit of advice, pet, and then you can have your scone: leave a little dark around the light, or nobody will know where to look.