#ivanturgenev

Twilight Guest

• Model: QWEN

• Size: 2224 X 1664 (3.70 MP)

• Used settings:

  • Prompt: (Create a color ink and pen illustration) 19th century setting. Interior of a bedroom in a town house in Russia, 19th century. Twilight, candle light, dramatic shadows. A middle-aged man is lying in bed. He is not sleeping, instead he is looking at the opposite wall. On the wall are two windows. (Between the windows stands a translucent apparition and gazes intently at the man in the bed). The man in bed looks at the apparition with an interest, as if recognizing in it someone familiar to him. An atmosphere of mystery and inexplicability. (Emotional, dramatic, inexplicable, mysterious, perfect composition)
  • Using base image: No
  • Aspect Ratio: landscape
  • Style/LoRA: Pure QWEN

Something's coming

• Model: Artistic 2

• Size: 1016 X 1016 (1.03 MP)

• Used settings:

  • Prompt: There are two of us in the room: my dog and me. A terrible, violent storm is howling outside. The dog sits in front of me and looks straight into my eyes. And I look back into its eyes, too. It's like it wants to tell me something. It's mute, it's speechless, it doesn't understand itself - but I understand it. I realize that in this moment, the same feeling lives in it and in me, that there is no difference between us. We are identical; the same tremulous light burns and glows in each of us. Death will swoop down and flap upon it with his cold, broad wing... And that will be the end! Who then will know which light was burning in each of us?
  • Using base image: Yes

The Connection

• Model: AIVision

• Size: 918 X 1024 (0.94 MP)

• Used settings:

  • Prompt: There are two of us in the room: my dog and me. A terrible, violent storm is howling outside. The dog sits in front of me and looks straight into my eyes. And I look back into its eyes, too. It's like it wants to tell me something. It's mute, it's speechless, it doesn't understand itself - but I understand it. I realize that in this moment, the same feeling lives in it and in me, that there is no difference between us. We are identical; the same tremulous light burns and glows in each of us. Death will swoop down and flap upon it with his cold, broad wing... And that will be the end! Who then will know which light was burning in each of us?
  • Using base image: No
  • Aspect Ratio: square