Dotwork design of stippled mountains and a rising sun inside a geometric triangle, drawn in black ink on cream paper with no body placement shown.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Stippled mountains inside a triangle

Dotwork · Black and grey · Flash

A drawn tattoo design showing a sun rising behind a range of mountains, enclosed by a bold black triangle outline. The mountains and sun are built from fine stippled dots that shade the slopes and create a textured, dimensional effect. The design is shown in black ink on a plain cream background, with no body part visible.

Dotwork Geometric Mountain Triangle Sun Landscape Stipple

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 lift at Harrow Point has been out since Tuesday, so you take the stairs with the shopping bag cutting into your fingers, counting landings the way your nan counted rosary beads. On the ninth floor a child has drawn a sun in marker beside the fire door, its rays pointing in every direction but one. You don't stop. By the eleventh you are breathing like someone climbing a real slope, and you remember Mr Okafor from the ground floor saying the sun gets behind the hills above the valley an hour before anyone in the town sees it.

Keep reading

Your flat is on the fourteenth floor, and the kitchen window faces east over the car park and the ring road to the ridge beyond. Most mornings the view is grey. Today the sky has gone the colour of weak tea, and a pale disc is easing up behind the far line of hills, so faint you could mistake it for a smear on the glass. You wipe the glass with your sleeve. It doesn't help. You set the bag on the counter and stand there while the kettle goes cold.

The phone rings. It's your sister, asking if you're coming to the christening on Saturday. You say probably, and she says you always say probably. You watch the light work its way down the ridge in fine grey dots, each slope catching a little more of it, until the valley below the estate turns from black to a grey that has edges. "Look out your window," you tell her. "Something's happening to the hills." She laughs, then stops, and asks what you mean.

You don't explain. You hold the phone flat against the glass so she can see it too, the sun coming up square in the middle of the frame as if it was always meant to sit exactly there.