Fine line black constellation tattoo of small star points joined by thin lines, placed on the side of the ribs.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Star constellation tattoo on the side ribs

Fine line · Ribs · Black and grey · Photo

A small constellation made of tiny star-shaped dots joined by thin connecting lines runs in a curving path down the side of the torso. The linework is delicate and the ink is dark, with no shading. The skin is pale and softly lit, with blurred hair falling at the left edge of the frame.

Fine line Ribs Constellation Star Line Dot

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 snow had closed the upper road by the time my brother came down off the col, and he was carrying the lantern the wrong way, low against his chest, as if he were hiding it from the sky. I took it from him and held it up. Nothing but the old pattern overhead, the one our grandmother called the hooked fish, though the priest at Aldbrook called it a scorpion and cursed when the mules spooked at its tail.

Keep reading

Tomas had been three nights above the Gorrow Gap with the flock. He said the sheep had stopped moving the moment the stars came out, all facing one way, and when he looked for the reason he found only the sky, bright and ordinary, with the curve of stars that always ran from the saddle of the ridge down to a little knot of light near the cliff. Our father used to say you could steer by it when the cloud came down and the cairns vanished.

We walked the path together, counting the stars with our fingers the way we had as children, one for the bright star at the head, two for the pair beside it, the long thin line dropping to the hook. At the bend where the cairn stands, Tomas stopped and pointed down into the valley, where a single lamp was moving up the switchbacks toward us.

It was our mother, with a torch in one hand and a coat over her shoulders, and she had found the road blind and come anyway. She did not ask about the sheep. She only lifted her face to the hook of stars and said, that is where he is, and we both knew she meant our father, who had walked this pass the last time with no lantern, and had not come back down.