Prompt: My father always promised us we would live in France
We'd go sailing on the Seine and I would learn to dance.
We lived in Ohio then and he worked in the mines.
On his streams like boats we knew we would sail in time.
All my sisters soon were gone to Denver and Cheyenne,
Marrying their grown-up dreams, the lilacs and the man.
I stayed behind the youngest and only danced alone,
The colors of my father's dreams faded without a sigh.
And now I live in Paris and my children dance and dream,
Hearing the story of a miner's life in words they never seen.
I sail my memories abold like boats across the Seine,
And I watch the Paris sun set in my father's eyes again.
My father always promised us we would live in France
We'd go sailing on the Seine and I would learn to dance.
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Prompt: a breathtaking alla prima oil painting that merges Parisian romance with surreal dreamscape—a platinum blonde woman suspended mid-step on a narrow cobblestone street bathed in golden twilight, her porcelain skin glowing with the same ethereal luminosity as the Eiffel Tower’s distant sparkle behind her. The scene thrums with life: a vintage 2CV parked haphazardly near a turquoise scooter, their chrome accents catching the light like liquid metal, while the café tables spill over with half-finished espressos and fluttering napkins, each brushstroke thick with the urgency of wet-on-wet paint. Her off-the-shoulder gown—a masterpiece of tension—melts from hyper-realistic black satin folds into inky Aubrey Beardsley tendrils that curl around her legs, transforming into ornate Art Nouveau vines that climb the lamppost beside her. Her hair fractures into gilded filaments, some strands dissolving into the painterly swirls of the twilight sky, others crystallizing into the delicate filigree of wrought-iron balconies overhead. The background pulses with a translucent wash of matte whites and deep umbers, the cobblestones rendered in bold, chunky strokes that dissolve into geometric echoes of rose windows beneath her feet. Light carves her cheekbone and the curve of her hip with surgical precision, while shadows pool beneath the gown’s gravity-defying drape like spilled espresso. Her ice-pale eyes, the only anchor in this whirlwind of alla prima bravura, lock onto the viewer with unsettling realism, as if the entire scene—the Tower’s kaleidoscopic glow, the scent of fresh paint and warm croissants, the scooter’s handlebar streamers fluttering in an unseen breeze—exists solely in the charged space between her gaze and the canvas.
Prompt: The Citroën old car glides quietly through the winding streets of Paris, its front-wheel drive smoothly responding to city traffic. The boulevards and narrow streets are illuminated by the soft glow of the old street lamps, while in the distance the Eiffel Tower glows majestically against the night sky. A light rain falls, a refreshing breeze permeating the streets, mixing the scents of the city into an intoxicating mix. The French relax under the canopies of the cafés, enjoying their espressos and conversations as they watch the world go by. The Citroën traverses this scene like a timeless symphony of elegance and nostalgia, its old but reliable engine a familiar sound in the night. The driver steers thoughtfully through the crowds, his eyes glued to the road as he lets himself be guided by the rhythmic pulse of the city. It is a moment of peace and serenity amid the vibrancy of Paris, a glimpse of the past that blends with the present in an enchanting tableau of romance and allure.
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.
