Prompt: Two men—grinning broadly, sunburnt and dust-caked—wear tattered futuristic expedition uniforms with torn seams, faded insignia patches, and retrofitted utility belts; both are seated informally on cracked wooden supply crates, boots scuffed, lifting mismatched metal mugs in a celebratory toast; one leans back, head tilted in laughter, while the other gestures toward the valley with mock grandeur. They rest atop a rocky overlook at golden hour, overlooking a vast alien desert basin streaked with ochre and deep rust tones—thousands of titanic crystal formations, shimmering in electric violet, luminous teal, and blood-orange, rise vertically in clustered spires like a petrified forest of gemstones. The terrain features cracked clay flats, wind-carved ridges, and scattered desert bushes with fractal-leafed alien morphology; insect-winged shadows flicker through the haze. To one edge of the frame, barely visible and dwarfed by scale, rests their battered lander: a compact interplanetary shuttle scorched and jury-rigged, half-buried in orange dust with exposed shielding and one damaged landing strut. Surrounding the basin are stratified cliffs of realistic sandstone, worn into natural buttresses and overhangs by aeons of erosion; these frame a giant, milk-white moon resting low on the far horizon, casting faint glows across the crystal tips and sand below. The light glints through atmospheric dust, catching on the men’s mugs and sweat-slicked brows—emotionally rich, cinematic, and caught at the moment between disbelief and euphoria. In the style of Pino Daeni, Luis Royo, Boris Vallejo, Tom Bagshaw, John William Waterhouse, Hoàng Lập, and Justin Gerard.
Prompt: Two men—grinning broadly, sunburnt and dust-caked—wear tattered futuristic expedition uniforms with torn seams, faded insignia patches, and retrofitted utility belts; both are seated informally on cracked wooden supply crates, boots scuffed, lifting mismatched metal mugs in a celebratory toast; one leans back, head tilted in laughter, while the other gestures toward the valley with mock grandeur. They rest atop a rocky overlook at golden hour, overlooking a vast alien desert basin streaked with ochre and deep rust tones—thousands of titanic crystal formations, shimmering in electric violet, luminous teal, and blood-orange, rise vertically in clustered spires like a petrified forest of gemstones. The terrain features cracked clay flats, wind-carved ridges, and scattered desert bushes with fractal-leafed alien morphology; insect-winged shadows flicker through the haze. To one edge of the frame, barely visible and dwarfed by scale, rests their battered lander: a compact interplanetary shuttle scorched and jury-rigged, half-buried in orange dust with exposed shielding and one damaged landing strut. Surrounding the basin are stratified cliffs of realistic sandstone, worn into natural buttresses and overhangs by aeons of erosion; these frame a giant, milk-white moon resting low on the far horizon, casting faint glows across the crystal tips and sand below. The light glints through atmospheric dust, catching on the men’s mugs and sweat-slicked brows—emotionally rich, cinematic, and caught at the moment between disbelief and euphoria. In the style of Pino Daeni, Luis Royo, Boris Vallejo, Tom Bagshaw, John William Waterhouse, Hoàng Lập, and Justin Gerard.
Would you like to report this Dream as inappropriate?
Prompt:
Two men—grinning broadly, sunburnt and dust-caked—wear tattered futuristic expedition uniforms with torn seams, faded insignia patches, and retrofitted utility belts; both are seated informally on cracked wooden supply crates, boots scuffed, lifting mismatched metal mugs in a celebratory toast; one leans back, head tilted in laughter, while the other gestures toward the valley with mock grandeur. They rest atop a rocky overlook at golden hour, overlooking a vast alien desert basin streaked with ochre and deep rust tones—thousands of titanic crystal formations, shimmering in electric violet, luminous teal, and blood-orange, rise vertically in clustered spires like a petrified forest of gemstones. The terrain features cracked clay flats, wind-carved ridges, and scattered desert bushes with fractal-leafed alien morphology; insect-winged shadows flicker through the haze. To one edge of the frame, barely visible and dwarfed by scale, rests their battered lander: a compact interplanetary shuttle scorched and jury-rigged, half-buried in orange dust with exposed shielding and one damaged landing strut. Surrounding the basin are stratified cliffs of realistic sandstone, worn into natural buttresses and overhangs by aeons of erosion; these frame a giant, milk-white moon resting low on the far horizon, casting faint glows across the crystal tips and sand below. The light glints through atmospheric dust, catching on the men’s mugs and sweat-slicked brows—emotionally rich, cinematic, and caught at the moment between disbelief and euphoria. In the style of Pino Daeni, Luis Royo, Boris Vallejo, Tom Bagshaw, John William Waterhouse, Hoàng Lập, and Justin Gerard.
Two sunburnt men in tattered futuristic uniforms celebrate atop a rocky overlook, toasting in a vibrant alien desert filled with shimmering crystal formations and a glowing moon on the horizon.
Dream Level: is increased each time when you "Go Deeper" into the dream. Each new level is harder to achieve and
takes more iterations than the one before.
Rare Deep Dream: is any dream which went deeper than level 6.
Deep Dream
You cannot go deeper into someone else's dream. You must create your own.
Deep Dream
Currently going deeper is available only for Deep Dreams.
Artist
