Flash sheet of twelve geometric mandala designs drawn in blue linework, including stars, hexagons, circles and lattice patterns, with no placement on skin.

Twelve geometric mandala flash designs

Geometric · Colour · Flash

A flash sheet showing twelve circular and star-shaped geometric designs drawn in fine blue-purple outline. Each piece combines polygons, interlocking circles, lattice grids and radiating lines, with some centred on a small motif and others built from repeating segments. The designs are arranged in a two-column grid on a plain white background with even spacing.

Geometric Mandala Geometric pattern Star Hexagon Circle Lattice Flower Rosette Spiral Polygon

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

You have the string pegged to the gravel before the frost has left the box hedge, and Mrs Pargeter is already at the kitchen window with her tea going cold, watching you walk the same circle for the third time. The circle has to be exact. She told you that on your first morning, when you asked why the paths in the walled garden at Hollin Court bent the way they did. Everything here answers to a centre, she said, and then she handed you a notebook of twelve drawings and told you to find the hidden hexagon in each.

Keep reading

The notebook is older than the glasshouse. Its pages are soft as flannel, and the ink has faded to the colour of a bruise. You learn the hexagons first, six triangles fanned from a single point, then the rosettes of overlapping circles that open like a lock. The spirals are the hard ones. You copy one in the potting shed by lamplight, and by the fourth attempt your wrist has learned the slow curl that hers had, a hand that never hurries.

In April the tulips come up in rows that follow your lines, and the village children stop at the gate to count the petals. Mrs Pargeter does not come out to see. On the morning the rain washes away the gravel circle, you find the notebook open on the potting bench with a thirteenth page added in her small hand: a rosette with no centre, only a blank space where a peg should go. Beneath it she has written, Yours now. Put something of your own in the middle.

You kneel with the peg in your fist and the string pulled taut, and for once you do not walk the circle. You push the peg into the soft ground exactly where every line in the book would meet, and you leave it there, a small bright nail holding twelve patterns to the earth.