Prompt: “I wake up
to my cats
judging me.
They stare
blankly
as if to say:
Is this what
you had in mind
for your life?
If it is, you may
want to consider
sleeping pills or
a tall bridge
because in our view,
you're pathetic."
Style Christian Schloe.
Prompt: A once in a lifetime event, Pen in hand, a new chapter begins, To be written at your leisure, And by your own hand Abstract art. Pastel colours dripping vertically down the image of a very faint double exposure sepia image as if made from a foggy waterpaint brush stroke.
Jarod Kent Simpson art Tupac Amaru Shukur: 2Pac The Magic Rose That Grew From Concrete
Model:
Artistic
Size:
1278 X 1643
(2.10 MP)
Used settings:
Prompt: Tupac Amaru Shukur the rose that grew from concrete conjured under a harvest moon blessed be his music is a beautiful flower of magic poetry, cosmic power of the gods, druids pentagram, spell forged intricate energy bursts, reflections of fire, hyper-detailed work, complex, colorful, polished in the style of Daniel Merriam, Brian Froud, Josephine Wall, Catherine Abel style Raphael
Prompt: Paint a dreamy hazy breezy wet on wet watercolour artwork, using minimal paints and maximum loose water effects, EmmAI winter colour palette, melancholy composition, minimalist, impressionist, with no text, a serene evening scene featuring a silhouette of a woman with butterfly wings sitting gracefully on a ledge. She gazes out over a tranquil body of water that reflects a vibrant sunset in shades of purple and pink. In the background, a fantastical cityscape with intricate towers and spires emerges against the colorful sky. A graceful bird flies overhead, enhancing the magical atmosphere. The moon casts a gentle glow over the landscape, adding to the dreamlike quality of the scene.
Prompt: A graceful, ethereal woman with long flowing black hair stands in profile against a starlit sky. She is wearing a delicate, flowing white gown adorned with a golden belt, embodying an air of serenity and elegance. In her outstretched hand, she cradles a luminous full moon, which casts a gentle glow around her. Soft, wispy clouds drift in the background, further enhancing the dreamlike quality of the scene. The mysterious atmosphere is tranquil and enchanting, evoking a sense of wonder and magic in the night sky. Inspired by the poetry of fleeting love and the visual style of Catrin Welz-Stein, Makoto Shinkai, and Tran Nguyen. Dreamy hazy breezy watercolour, wet-on-wet technique, visual poetry, minimalist impressionism, melancholic beauty, soft rainlight, floating textures, no text or symbols.
Prompt: A dimly lit bedroom at dusk. The bed is unmade, with deep blue sheets scattered like waves. On the pillow lies a stack of handwritten glowing letters, each sealed with dark blue wax bearing arcane sigils. Female with long, tar dark hair and pale skin, in beautiful silver dress with shiny sapphires on it, she sits on the edge of the bed, leaning forward with quiet, piercing intensity. Their eyes glow faintly, one part lover, one part supernatural observer, staring directly at an open book resting on the bed. The book’s pages are turning on their own, the ink shimmering with flecks, magical lights of night sky and glimmers like tiny constellations. Nearby, a delicate pile of nightingale feathers spills from a carved wooden box, each feather etched with fine symbols of desire. A single candle burns low on the bedside table, casting a golden halo that barely keeps back the encroaching darkness. On the floor, a reflection: as if the whole scene is mirrored in black glass, showing the same figure—but in the reflection, the eyes blaze like a cold sun, revealing their true, otherworldly form. Outside the window, dawn is beginning—a thin line of light rising, illuminating an ancient, fog-wreathed landscape beyond. The atmosphere is charged: a storm contained in silence, the air vibrating with unspoken words and an overwhelming sense of forbidden longing. Silver sigils floating in the room, a hint of magic.
Prompt: Serene River:Misty Sunrise
A Tranquil Morning Amidst Blooming Florals and Gentle Waters.
Through the hush of twilight fog.
A tranquil scene featuring misty waters where one only boat gently float. Soft, glowing light reflect on the surface, creating an ethereal atmosphere with a dreamy, nostalgic vibe.At the break of dawn, when the world still cradles the hush of night, a river lies cloaked in tranquility, its surface smooth and untroubled. The rising sun casts a gentle blush across the horizon, infusing the mist that lingers above the water with a golden-pink glow. Along the riverbank, clusters of forget-me-nots unfurl their delicate blue petals, nodding in the cool, fragrant air beside bursts of blush-pink flowers. Their reflections shimmer softly on the surface, mingling with the first hints of sunlight and the silvery wraiths of morning mist.
dreamy wet-on-wet watercolour, minimalist impressionism, translucent atmospheric layering, soft bokeh, faded vintage textures, visual poetry, melancholic tenderness, no text or symbols.
Prompt: Inside a tent lit by amber lamps, a woman lounges on cushions, wearing only a low-cut embroidered robe. She’s reading old poetry aloud, her voice echoing softly. The room smells of incense and desert roses. This is a space of softness, story, and sacred desire
Prompt: Inside a tent lit by amber lamps, a woman lounges on cushions, wearing only a low-cut embroidered robe. She’s reading old poetry aloud, her voice echoing softly. The room smells of incense and desert roses. This is a space of softness, story, and sacred desire
Prompt: While others chased fame, he chased echoes buried in silence.
His voice carries the coordinates of the soul’s escape route.
Shady Vlad writes not to impress — but to awaken the forgotten architects within.
Style: Shadow gospel. Sonic architecture. Liberation code poetry.
Prompt: Black hair like a waterfall, Scattered with endless poetry, Splashing ink, A mysterious aura, Endless white, Reflecting, That touch of red lips. Eyes, Insight into the impermanence of the world. Beauty, Is the truth in the void. ---a long pale-blue translucent lace dress Digital artwork by Pascal Campion
Prompt: Sabrina fair Listen where thou art sitting Under the glassie, cool, translucent wave, In twisted braids of Lillies knitting The loose train of thy amber dropping hair, Listen for dear honour's sake, Goddess of the silver lake, Listen and save.
Prompt: I will build for you each night
A palace luminous
With whole blocks of emerald
And diamond stones.
Shall it be skyblue as your eyes,
Or green as your wishes:
Be, and the palace too shall be.
Sing softly, and obedient it will take you
And fly aloft like a drunken bird,
And rise on a thread of light,
seeking two sunken stars;
driven on by the seconds of time,
Their eyes closed in the discourse of night.
When together you have traversed
The expanse, and the oceans of light,
and reached the dome of heaven
Where sleep and dreams are made,
Asl after those my fingers
Which once touched that soil,
Sowed there flowers of welcome
Befor your visit came,
That might one day mark
The way to your fine palace.
Should you tire of the palace
of the pain of solitude and grief,
And remember this our earth,
its hills and streams,
Then whisper and I shall come,
The word's verdure in my cloak.
With sickness past, ask, O my desire,
That I erect anew the ruin.
If you love with a passion
That sheds luster on the dimmest star,
Then will i build myself in the skies
A Baalbek or Palmyra,
And say: ''Rejoice, be glad,
catch each comet like a ball''
With the world as but a show
For you, your amusement and your whim.
Prompt: -J.R.R. Tolkien penned this beautiful piece of poetry…
I sit beside the fire and think
Of all that I have seen
Of meadow flowers and butterflies
In summers that have been
Of yellow leaves and gossamer
In autumns that there were
With morning mist and silver sun
And wind upon my hair
I sit beside the fire and think
Of how the world will be
When winter comes without a spring
That I shall ever see
For still there are so many things
That I have never seen
In every wood in every spring
There is a different green
I sit beside the fire and think
Of people long ago
And people that will see a world
That I shall never know
But all the while I sit and think
Of times there were before
I listen for returning feet
And voices at the door
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.
