Fantasy Digital Painting of Woman and White Horse

“Take my hand. We’re riding out of here.”

132

Artist
BlueBrickF...
DDG Model
ChatGPT 2
Access
Public
Created
1mo ago
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Public
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- Info
  “Take my hand. We’re riding out of here.”
  
  Model: ChatGPT 2
  
  Size: 2224 X 1664 (3.70 MP)
  
  Used settings:
  
  Prompt: A surreal romantic dreamscape at dusk, in which stands a young Irishwoman in a torn white gown, face half-hidden, eyes full of longing and regret. Her long black hair ripples in the wind, catching the last golden light. Just beyond her, a wild white horse rears against the sky of molten pinks and deep indigo, clouds swirling like torn silk. Around the woman and the horse, fragments of a city drift like memories — lampposts bending, windows suspended in air, telephone wires dissolving into constellations. The ground shimmers with reflections of impossible stars, a world between love and loss.
  
  Using base image: No
  
  Aspect Ratio: landscape
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Prompt: A surreal romantic dreamscape at dusk, in which stands a young Irishwoman in a torn white gown, face half-hidden, eyes full of longing and regret. Her long black hair ripples in the wind, catching the last golden light. Just beyond her, a wild white horse rears against the sky of molten pinks and deep indigo, clouds swirling like torn silk. Around the woman and the horse, fragments of a city drift like memories — lampposts bending, windows suspended in air, telephone wires dissolving into constellations. The ground shimmers with reflections of impossible stars, a world between love and loss.

Modifiers:

Award winning photography cinematic lighting ray tracing photorealistic high detail award winning crisp quality Unreal Engine colourful cinematic postprocessing VRay Gothic sensual Weird post-apocalyptic Caravaggio Tom Bagshaw Volumetric lighting Simon Stålenhag occult Tomasz Alen Kopera Frederic Remington sultry Burne Hogarth Bethesda Studios modern graphic novel aesthetic

Prompt

A surreal romantic dreamscape at dusk, in which stands a young Irishwoman in a torn white gown, face half-hidden, eyes full of longing and regret. Her long black hair ripples in the wind, catching the last golden light. Just beyond her, a wild white horse rears against the sky of molten pinks and deep indigo, clouds swirling like torn silk. Around the woman and the horse, fragments of a city drift like memories — lampposts bending, windows suspended in air, telephone wires dissolving into constellations. The ground shimmers with reflections of impossible stars, a world between love and loss.

More about “Take my hand. We’re riding out of here.”

A hauntingly beautiful scene unfolds at dusk. An Irishwoman in a tattered gown, her face veiled in shadow, stands with a wild white horse against a sky of molten hues. Fragments of a city drift like memories, while impossible stars shimmer below, creating a dreamscape of longing and regret.