Prompt: Full-body depiction of a young woman seated at an old wooden desk, rendered in the haunting, surrealist style of Zdzisław Beksiński. Her posture is hunched, shoulders curved forward as she leans over a single sheet of ancient parchment (Pantone 4685 C) laid flat on the desk, beside a blackened inkwell (Pantone Black 6 C). In her hand she grips a long, frayed quill, its tip stained deep crimson (Pantone 7625 C), as if the ink itself were drawn from blood.
She is dressed in a tattered, decaying version of a tailored suit: once-elegant lines of a blazer and skirt now shredded and threadbare, painted in muted charcoal gray (Pantone 7540 C) and faded sepia (Pantone 7531 C). The fabric hangs loose and broken, edges dissolving into tatters that resemble peeling flesh or rotting cloth. Her pale skin (Pantone 7527 C) appears almost porous, lit in stark contrast by dim, directional light, and her dark hair (Pantone 4975 C) is unkempt, strands falling across her hollow face as she writes. Her lips are cracked, painted in ashen gray (Pantone Cool Gray 7 C), barely moving, while her eyes remain fixed downward with obsessive intensity.
The room around her is stripped and desolate: the walls stretch upward and outward into infinity, painted in endless layers of foggy ochre (Pantone 4655 C), muted bone white (Pantone 7528 C), and smoky brown (Pantone 7510 C). The surfaces dissolve into a choking, endless haze, as if the space itself were collapsing into void. Shadows twist along the ground and corners, forming vague, skeletal structures that appear and vanish in the mist, giving the illusion of forms both architectural and organic.
The desk itself is warped, its surface cracked and scarred, rendered in dark burnt umber (Pantone 476 C) with veins of black seeping through its grain. Beneath the desk, the woman’s bare feet cling to the stone floor (Pantone 431 C), toes distorted, as if partially fused to the surface. Around her, faint tendrils of fog curl upward, brushing her figure, almost as though the room itself is reaching for her.
The atmosphere is oppressive and surreal: silence amplified by the scratch of her quill, time suspended in a space where decay and infinity coexist. The chromatic palette is dominated by charcoals, rust reds, muted ochres, and ghostly grays, pierced by the stark red of the ink. The overall mood is one of obsessive isolation and existential dread, a vision of a woman consumed by her writing in a world unraveling into endless fog and ruin.
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.
