Black and white photo of a white ink ornamental tattoo with paisley and scroll patterns across a person's shoulder and upper arm, seen from behind.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

White ink ornamental tattoo on shoulder

Shoulder · Black and grey · Photo

A black and white photograph of the back of a person's shoulder and upper arm, with a white ink tattoo of interlocking mandala, paisley and scrolling lace-like motifs. The linework is fine and the pattern is raised slightly from the skin, so it reads as pale lines rather than dark ink. The design wraps over the shoulder point and down the upper arm, while the face and head are cropped out of frame.

Shoulder Upper arm Mandala Paisley Scrollwork Lace pattern Ornamental

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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

Pearl, you have the wrong bobbins in again. The cream ones go on the ground and the bright white ones go on the flowers, and if you mix them the pattern sits grey on the pillow like a bruise under a sleeve. I know you think the difference is nothing. Nobody sees it but the person wearing it, and only when the light comes in low across the room.

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Here is the paisley I promised you, the one with the teardrop that curls back on itself like a fern. Start at the point and work outwards, never inwards, because lace has to grow the way a tide comes up a beach. Count the picots aloud. Your mother hated that habit of mine, but it keeps the hands honest. The mandala goes at the centre, eleven rings, and every ring must close over the one before it or the whole thing lifts at the edge and curls like wet paper.

When Ada Mole came round for the dress I had made her for the chapel, she turned it over and asked why I had hidden the best scrolls under the arm where nobody would look. I told her a lady should always keep one thing for herself. She laughed so hard she had to sit down on the step, and the lace caught the sun through the gate, and for a moment the whole sleeve went silver.

Send me a photograph once it's pressed. My eyes are going, so I'll hold it up to the window and find the flower by feel, the way I used to find the knots in the dark. Mind the tension on the last ring. Love, Nan.