Colour tattoo of a Totoro outline filled with a misty forest and a dark figure holding a red umbrella, on the calf.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Totoro outline with forest scene on calf

Calf · Colour · Photo

The design shows a large Totoro outline with pointed ears and whiskers, filled with a woodland scene. A dark silhouette of a figure holding a red umbrella stands on a grassy path between tall trunks. The shading is soft and painterly, with pale green, pink and orange tones behind the bold black outline.

Calf Totoro Forest Tree Umbrella Silhouette Figure Path

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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

Now sit down and stop fidgeting, because the rain's come on the same way it did the spring your great-aunt Maud lost her shoes in the lane. You hear that drip off the gutter? That's the same rain. It never finished with us.

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The road up to the chapel ran through Hollin Wood, and in those days the oaks leaned so close the path was more rumour than path. Maud was walking home from the mill under a red umbrella her father had bought in Leeds, the only red thing for miles, and she counted the trunks the way you count sheep. Eleven, twelve. At fourteen the wood went quiet, the way a kitchen does when someone is listening at the door.

She saw him first as a shape against the green light, grey as a wet hayrick, taller than the gate, with ears like the points of a tent and whiskers longer than her arms. He wasn't cross. He was simply enormous and patient, standing in the middle of the track as if he were waiting for the post. Maud did what any sensible girl would do. She tipped her umbrella higher and said good evening, because her mother had taught her manners before she taught her fear.

He bent down, slow as a wardrobe door, and took the handle in one paw, and the two of them walked out of the wood together, him holding the red over her head while the rain ran off his belly like a weir. At the stile he gave it back, shook himself, and was gone among the trunks. Maud never got her shoes back, but she always said the rain stopped at the edge of Hollin that night, and so, my love, it still does for anyone polite enough to say good evening.