Close-up of a woman with red hair and dark makeup

torn

369

Artist
eryn
DDG Model
ChatGPT 2
Mode
Pro
Access
Public
Created
1d ago
Similar Try Try style
Public
369

4

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- Info
  torn
  
  Model: ChatGPT 2 (Pro)
  
  Size: 2224 X 1664 (3.70 MP)
  
  Used settings:
  
  Prompt: Hyper-detailed photorealistic night portrait printed on a single photograph, then torn into six tall vertical strips, the strips laid on a wide black ground and spread apart unevenly, the gaps between them irregular, some narrow, some wide, each strip slid visibly up or down, misaligned, a little rotated, so the picture no longer meets itself. Every torn edge jagged with loose white fibres, the paper thin enough that light shows through it. The tears cut through her body. The widest gap runs straight through her chest where her heart would be. Behind the strips a warm amber-rose light glows through every gap, brightest in that one, as if the light were coming from inside her, pulsing out between the pieces. Across the strips, a slender grown woman of about thirty, the first faint laugh lines at the corners of her eyes, half-length, sitting on bare attic floorboards, knees drawn up, arms loosely around them, her body divided by the gaps and displaced strip by strip. Only her face is spared, whole on one strip: soft oval face, gentle rounded features, soft jawline, very bright pale sapphire blue eyes with a darker ring around the iris, bright glass lit from within, a catchlight in each, pale porcelain skin, freckles across nose and cheeks, mascara dried in grey streaks, dark plum lipstick, lips softly closed. She looks straight at you, calm, tired, utterly unguarded, the stillness of someone past crying, beautiful in it. Ragged jaw-length copper hair, plain natural copper, a few short new hairs growing from her scalp above her left ear in fresh vivid rainbow. Washed-out black velvet off-the-shoulder top worn bald in patches, raw edges unravelling, black velvet ribbon choker with a small antique cameo, sheer black tights with pulled snags. Inside the photograph: dim blue moonlight through a frayed lace curtain, peeling floral wallpaper, a few drained ash-grey lengths of hair on the floor. Cold and quiet, every texture readable. The only warmth anywhere is the light breaking through the tears. Torn, open and still beating, by eryn
  
  Using base image: No
  
  Aspect Ratio: landscape
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Prompt: Hyper-detailed photorealistic night portrait printed on a single photograph, then torn into six tall vertical strips, the strips laid on a wide black ground and spread apart unevenly, the gaps between them irregular, some narrow, some wide, each strip slid visibly up or down, misaligned, a little rotated, so the picture no longer meets itself. Every torn edge jagged with loose white fibres, the paper thin enough that light shows through it. The tears cut through her body. The widest gap runs straight through her chest where her heart would be. Behind the strips a warm amber-rose light glows through every gap, brightest in that one, as if the light were coming from inside her, pulsing out between the pieces. Across the strips, a slender grown woman of about thirty, the first faint laugh lines at the corners of her eyes, half-length, sitting on bare attic floorboards, knees drawn up, arms loosely around them, her body divided by the gaps and displaced strip by strip. Only her face is spared, whole on one strip: soft oval face, gentle rounded features, soft jawline, very bright pale sapphire blue eyes with a darker ring around the iris, bright glass lit from within, a catchlight in each, pale porcelain skin, freckles across nose and cheeks, mascara dried in grey streaks, dark plum lipstick, lips softly closed. She looks straight at you, calm, tired, utterly unguarded, the stillness of someone past crying, beautiful in it. Ragged jaw-length copper hair, plain natural copper, a few short new hairs growing from her scalp above her left ear in fresh vivid rainbow. Washed-out black velvet off-the-shoulder top worn bald in patches, raw edges unravelling, black velvet ribbon choker with a small antique cameo, sheer black tights with pulled snags. Inside the photograph: dim blue moonlight through a frayed lace curtain, peeling floral wallpaper, a few drained ash-grey lengths of hair on the floor. Cold and quiet, every texture readable. The only warmth anywhere is the light breaking through the tears. Torn, open and still beating, by eryn

Modifiers:

8k Ultra filigrane texture of fine lines by eryn will it get better? beautiful extinction the lights are out

Prompt

Hyper-detailed photorealistic night portrait printed on a single photograph, then torn into six tall vertical strips, the strips laid on a wide black ground and spread apart unevenly, the gaps between them irregular, some narrow, some wide, each strip slid visibly up or down, misaligned, a little rotated, so the picture no longer meets itself. Every torn edge jagged with loose white fibres, the paper thin enough that light shows through it. The tears cut through her body. The widest gap runs straight through her chest where her heart would be. Behind the strips a warm amber-rose light glows through every gap, brightest in that one, as if the light were coming from inside her, pulsing out between the pieces. Across the strips, a slender grown woman of about thirty, the first faint laugh lines at the corners of her eyes, half-length, sitting on bare attic floorboards, knees drawn up, arms loosely around them, her body divided by the gaps and displaced strip by strip. Only her face is spared, whole on one strip: soft oval face, gentle rounded features, soft jawline, very bright pale sapphire blue eyes with a darker ring around the iris, bright glass lit from within, a catchlight in each, pale porcelain skin, freckles across nose and cheeks, mascara dried in grey streaks, dark plum lipstick, lips softly closed. She looks straight at you, calm, tired, utterly unguarded, the stillness of someone past crying, beautiful in it. Ragged jaw-length copper hair, plain natural copper, a few short new hairs growing from her scalp above her left ear in fresh vivid rainbow. Washed-out black velvet off-the-shoulder top worn bald in patches, raw edges unravelling, black velvet ribbon choker with a small antique cameo, sheer black tights with pulled snags. Inside the photograph: dim blue moonlight through a frayed lace curtain, peeling floral wallpaper, a few drained ash-grey lengths of hair on the floor. Cold and quiet, every texture readable. The only warmth anywhere is the light breaking through the tears. Torn, open and still beating, by eryn