Shirtless person with blue and grey tattoos on both arms and winged designs on the chest, holding a white electric guitar behind the head against a black background.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Winged chest and arm tattoos with guitar

Upper arm · Mixed · Photo

A shirtless figure with long dark hair holds a white Les Paul style electric guitar behind the head, with the face largely hidden. Both upper arms carry dense, ornate tattoo work in blue and grey ink, and the chest shows winged designs. The image is lit against a plain black background, with the guitar body and neck forming the central composition.

Upper arm Chest Wing Guitar Ornamental pattern Arm

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

Ada had the foghorn pinned open on her second night on Skerra Head when the boat came in under the cliff with nothing aboard but a white guitar lashed to the thwart. The lamp was not hers to tend. She had come up from Oban to cover for the keeper's lad, who had gone south with a fever and a debt, and the station had a logbook, a barometer and a wireless that only ever read out the shipping forecast. Nobody had mentioned music.

Keep reading

She carried the guitar up the hundred and twelve steps herself, its body knocking against her hip, and set it on the lamp room table where the brass caught the light. The pickguard was a sheet of mother of pearl, and the headstock was dusted with salt. Someone had scratched two small silver wings on the wood beside the bridge, the kind a sailor might carve into a locker lid. She tuned it by ear, the way her father tuned the bell buoy chain, and played the first thing that came to her, a slow dirge for a drowned fisherman, so unhurried that the beam seemed to keep time with it.

Three nights later a trawler skipper climbed up, cap in his hands, looking for whoever had the guitar. It had come off a yacht that went down in the Sound, he said. The owner had played it on the foredeck while the crew bailed, singing against the wind until the wind gave up and let them reach harbour. Nobody had found him after.

Ada handed the guitar back without playing a note. "You'll want it kept dry," she said, and the skipper nodded and didn't take it. Instead he stood at the rail a while and listened to the sea, and Ada, who had come to Skerra for a season, found she had already learned the first three chords by heart.