Prompt: Silence was the first to surrender. It retreated under the onslaught of an invisible light, yielding to a ringing, crystalline emptiness. The night still clung to the slopes with its black firs and the velvety shadow of the gorges, but from somewhere beyond the jagged horizon, a ghostly, milky elixir was already pouring into the world. This was not just fog, but something more—a haze woven from the frozen breath of the sleeping lake and the secret exhalations of the earth. It lay over the surface of Okhna, still and dense, like liquid pearl, concealing the dark depths. The mountains hovered in this white abyss, their peaks, touched by the sun's first rosy kiss, floated in weightlessness, severed from the earth like crystalline islands. And then, a miracle occurred. The sun, without breaking through as a blinding ray, began not to shine, but to *infuse* the fog from within. The cold milk transformed into flowing gold, the ashen whiteness into shining lavender and tender shades of opal pink. The world ignited with a soft, internal radiance, as if the planet itself was emitting a quiet, fantastical light. The trees on the shore, dressed in heavy, fluffy coats of frost, emerged from the haze like spectral guardians, their branch-paws studded with billions of tiny diamonds. The air was cold and sharp as a blade, but every breath burned not with frost, but with purity. It was intoxicating and thick, as if one could quench their thirst with it. In this divine silence, where there was neither a rustle nor a chirp, it seemed one could hear the light sliding over the frost crystals, giving birth to a silent music of the spheres. This was not merely a dawn. It was a sacrament of transformation. The boundary between reality and dream, between water and sky, earth and air, was erased. For those few magical minutes, Okhn was not a lake in the mountains, but a gateway to a lost, ineffably beautiful world, ruled by silence, light, and a primordial, fantastical beauty.
Prompt: Teal and orange 19th Century Dutch misty morning countryside, soggy fields, mud, fences, farm land, distant tall populus trees, by Anton Mauve.
Prompt: Above floating island-platforms hovering in weightlessness at the edge of a gas giant, a city of bioluminescent crystal drifts. Its towers are not static—they breathe slowly, changing shape like giant crystalline organisms. Instead of windows, there are membranes through which an inner glow can be seen: capsule-rooms with plasma waterfalls and gardens of glowing moss. Across the dense, violet sky glide not ships, but living beings of alloy and energy—cybernetic rays serving as public transport. Their passengers in astral projections can alter their appearance at will: sometimes manifesting as figures of solid light, sometimes dissolving into a cloud of nanorobots. In the center of the city floats the **Data Tree**—a structure of intertwined light beams, where every "branch" is a stream of information accessible by mere thought. Around it dance holographic guardians resembling dragons made of shimmering pixels. In the distance, where two moons meet (one artificial, with a ring-shaped accelerator), hangs a portal—a rift in space-time, from which ships of other civilizations sometimes emerge, their forms defying the geometry of our world. Below, beneath the islands, stretches the **Silicon Sea**—a liquid computer whose surface shimmers with mathematical formulas and visions of dreams dreamt by the city itself. From the sea sometimes rise algorithm-be ings, taking the form of mythical creatures to communicate with the inhabitants. The air is filled with a quiet symphony: the hum of antigravity platforms, the click of thought-transmission devices, the melodic chime of crystals growing on energy fields. And somewhere high above, through the haze of multicolored clouds, the giant silhouette of a **Wanderer** is visible—a titanic creature-metropolis slowly striding across the continents of a distant planet, carrying entire ecosystems and civilizations on its back. Here, technology and biology, magic and science have merged into one, creating a world where reality is merely a matter of perspective, and every inhabitant is both a creator and part of a collective supermind.
Prompt: Above floating island-platforms hovering in weightlessness at the edge of a gas giant, a city of bioluminescent crystal drifts. Its towers are not static—they breathe slowly, changing shape like giant crystalline organisms. Instead of windows, there are membranes through which an inner glow can be seen: capsule-rooms with plasma waterfalls and gardens of glowing moss. Across the dense, violet sky glide not ships, but living beings of alloy and energy—cybernetic rays serving as public transport. Their passengers in astral projections can alter their appearance at will: sometimes manifesting as figures of solid light, sometimes dissolving into a cloud of nanorobots. In the center of the city floats the **Data Tree**—a structure of intertwined light beams, where every "branch" is a stream of information accessible by mere thought. Around it dance holographic guardians resembling dragons made of shimmering pixels. In the distance, where two moons meet (one artificial, with a ring-shaped accelerator), hangs a portal—a rift in space-time, from which ships of other civilizations sometimes emerge, their forms defying the geometry of our world. Below, beneath the islands, stretches the **Silicon Sea**—a liquid computer whose surface shimmers with mathematical formulas and visions of dreams dreamt by the city itself. From the sea sometimes rise algorithm-be ings, taking the form of mythical creatures to communicate with the inhabitants. The air is filled with a quiet symphony: the hum of antigravity platforms, the click of thought-transmission devices, the melodic chime of crystals growing on energy fields. And somewhere high above, through the haze of multicolored clouds, the giant silhouette of a **Wanderer** is visible—a titanic creature-metropolis slowly striding across the continents of a distant planet, carrying entire ecosystems and civilizations on its back. Here, technology and biology, magic and science have merged into one, creating a world where reality is merely a matter of perspective, and every inhabitant is both a creator and part of a collective supermind.
Prompt: A surreal, futuristic portrait of a figure possessed by Giger, with cracked, stone-like skin resembling ancient dry earth. Their long, flowing hair is rendered in fine, metallic strands, almost wire-like. Across their eyes and upper face, a digital glitch visor bursts outward — sharp, layered fragments of rainbow colors (neon orange, pink, purple, cyan, and gold) forming Frank Gehry-like, architectural shards. The vibrant glitch contrasts with the desaturated, broken texture of the skin, creating a fusion of decay and digital transcendence. The lighting is dramatic and cinematic, with warm golden light illuminating the lower face and neck, and cool blue tones surrounding the rest, against a dark, stormy background. Hyper-detailed, 3D, ultra-realistic, digital sculpture style, cinematic atmosphere, masterpiece.
Prompt: “The Massive Bloody Japanese Maple Survives the Lightning Storms”: Natural portal, Epic cinematic breathtaking intricate insanely detailed painting of dramatic lightning storm clouds, dark night and bright red moonlight glow on an aesthetic remarkable old trees, river, winding path, mountains, by tomasz allen kopera, dariusz zawadzki, andreja peklar, ivan shiskin, beautiful, colorful, cosmic, ultra detailed, ultra realistic, a masterpiece, polished, crisp quality, no frame, 3D image
Prompt: A peaceful winter landscape at dawn: a detailed log cabin and a partially frozen blue river, lined with bare birch trees whose branches sway in the breeze. A fishing boat lies at the shore. Canada geese circle in the sky, and the sun rises gently. Muted, natural colors. A soft, metallic, pale bronze tone. A misty, frosty morning with gentle fog against the rich greens and browns of the background. Overall, a very atmospheric scene. Style: Albert Bierstadt × Donato Giancola × modern high-fantasy landscape photography.
Prompt: A peaceful winter landscape at dawn: a detailed log cabin and a partially frozen blue river, lined with bare birch trees whose branches sway in the breeze. A fishing boat lies at the shore. Canada geese circle in the sky, and the sun rises gently. Muted, natural colors. A soft, metallic, pale bronze tone. A misty, frosty morning with gentle fog against the rich greens and browns of the background. Overall, a very atmospheric scene. Style: Albert Bierstadt × Donato Giancola × modern high-fantasy landscape photography.
Prompt: Silence was the first to surrender. It retreated under the onslaught of an invisible light, yielding to a ringing, crystalline emptiness. The night still clung to the slopes with its black firs and the velvety shadow of the gorges, but from somewhere beyond the jagged horizon, a ghostly, milky elixir was already pouring into the world. This was not just fog, but something more—a haze woven from the frozen breath of the sleeping lake and the secret exhalations of the earth. It lay over the surface of Okhna, still and dense, like liquid pearl, concealing the dark depths. The mountains hovered in this white abyss, their peaks, touched by the sun's first rosy kiss, floated in weightlessness, severed from the earth like crystalline islands. And then, a miracle occurred. The sun, without breaking through as a blinding ray, began not to shine, but to *infuse* the fog from within. The cold milk transformed into flowing gold, the ashen whiteness into shining lavender and tender shades of opal pink. The world ignited with a soft, internal radiance, as if the planet itself was emitting a quiet, fantastical light. The trees on the shore, dressed in heavy, fluffy coats of frost, emerged from the haze like spectral guardians, their branch-paws studded with billions of tiny diamonds. The air was cold and sharp as a blade, but every breath burned not with frost, but with purity. It was intoxicating and thick, as if one could quench their thirst with it. In this divine silence, where there was neither a rustle nor a chirp, it seemed one could hear the light sliding over the frost crystals, giving birth to a silent music of the spheres. This was not merely a dawn. It was a sacrament of transformation. The boundary between reality and dream, between water and sky, earth and air, was erased. For those few magical minutes, Okhn was not a lake in the mountains, but a gateway to a lost, ineffably beautiful world, ruled by silence, light, and a primordial, fantastical beauty.
Prompt: Erschaffe ein verträumtes Gemälde, eine friedliche Nachtszene mit einem stillen See unter dem Vollmond, dessen Wasser silbern schimmert. Im Vordergrund rudert ein Paar gemächlich in einem kleinen Boot; sie wirken gelassen und in sich gekehrt.
Zeichne links ein altes Holzhaus, aus dessen Fenster warmes Licht strömt. Es ist von dunklen Bäumen umgeben, deren kahle Äste sich vom Nachthimmel abheben. Das Haus verströmt mit seinem steilen Dach und dem Schornstein einen rustikalen Charme.
Im Hintergrund ist der Himmel tiefblaugrau, mit sanften Wolken übersät, und in der Ferne fliegen ein paar Vögel. Die Landschaft ist friedlich, mit sanften Wellen auf dem Wasser und Grashalmen am Ufer. Die Stimmung ist ruhig und stimmungsvoll und vermittelt ein Gefühl von Einsamkeit und Kontemplation. Die Gesamtatmosphäre soll einen Hauch von Magie und Gelassenheit hervorrufen und den Zauber einer Märchenwelt einfangen. Stil von Yoshitaka Amano × Donato Giancola × Bastien Lecouffe-Deharme
Prompt: Moon River - Moon over a misty river in autuumn. Colorful falling leaves . Watercolour by Alison Brady. Pastel colour, Arthur Rackham Gothic Watercolour Jean-Baptiste Monge Ernst Haeckel Minimalist Kay Sage watercolour art
Prompt: Silence was the first to surrender. It retreated under the onslaught of an invisible light, yielding to a ringing, crystalline emptiness. The night still clung to the slopes with its black firs and the velvety shadow of the gorges, but from somewhere beyond the jagged horizon, a ghostly, milky elixir was already pouring into the world. This was not just fog, but something more—a haze woven from the frozen breath of the sleeping lake and the secret exhalations of the earth. It lay over the surface of Okhna, still and dense, like liquid pearl, concealing the dark depths. The mountains hovered in this white abyss, their peaks, touched by the sun's first rosy kiss, floated in weightlessness, severed from the earth like crystalline islands. And then, a miracle occurred. The sun, without breaking through as a blinding ray, began not to shine, but to *infuse* the fog from within. The cold milk transformed into flowing gold, the ashen whiteness into shining lavender and tender shades of opal pink. The world ignited with a soft, internal radiance, as if the planet itself was emitting a quiet, fantastical light. The trees on the shore, dressed in heavy, fluffy coats of frost, emerged from the haze like spectral guardians, their branch-paws studded with billions of tiny diamonds. The air was cold and sharp as a blade, but every breath burned not with frost, but with purity. It was intoxicating and thick, as if one could quench their thirst with it. In this divine silence, where there was neither a rustle nor a chirp, it seemed one could hear the light sliding over the frost crystals, giving birth to a silent music of the spheres. This was not merely a dawn. It was a sacrament of transformation. The boundary between reality and dream, between water and sky, earth and air, was erased. For those few magical minutes, Okhn was not a lake in the mountains, but a gateway to a lost, ineffably beautiful world, ruled by silence, light, and a primordial, fantastical beauty.
Prompt: Silence was the first to surrender. It retreated under the onslaught of an invisible light, yielding to a ringing, crystalline emptiness. The night still clung to the slopes with its black firs and the velvety shadow of the gorges, but from somewhere beyond the jagged horizon, a ghostly, milky elixir was already pouring into the world. This was not just fog, but something more—a haze woven from the frozen breath of the sleeping lake and the secret exhalations of the earth. It lay over the surface of Okhna, still and dense, like liquid pearl, concealing the dark depths. The mountains hovered in this white abyss, their peaks, touched by the sun's first rosy kiss, floated in weightlessness, severed from the earth like crystalline islands. And then, a miracle occurred. The sun, without breaking through as a blinding ray, began not to shine, but to *infuse* the fog from within. The cold milk transformed into flowing gold, the ashen whiteness into shining lavender and tender shades of opal pink. The world ignited with a soft, internal radiance, as if the planet itself was emitting a quiet, fantastical light. The trees on the shore, dressed in heavy, fluffy coats of frost, emerged from the haze like spectral guardians, their branch-paws studded with billions of tiny diamonds. The air was cold and sharp as a blade, but every breath burned not with frost, but with purity. It was intoxicating and thick, as if one could quench their thirst with it. In this divine silence, where there was neither a rustle nor a chirp, it seemed one could hear the light sliding over the frost crystals, giving birth to a silent music of the spheres. This was not merely a dawn. It was a sacrament of transformation. The boundary between reality and dream, between water and sky, earth and air, was erased. For those few magical minutes, Okhn was not a lake in the mountains, but a gateway to a lost, ineffably beautiful world, ruled by silence, light, and a primordial, fantastical beauty.
Prompt: Silence was the first to surrender. It retreated under the onslaught of an invisible light, yielding to a ringing, crystalline emptiness. The night still clung to the slopes with its black firs and the velvety shadow of the gorges, but from somewhere beyond the jagged horizon, a ghostly, milky elixir was already pouring into the world. This was not just fog, but something more—a haze woven from the frozen breath of the sleeping lake and the secret exhalations of the earth. It lay over the surface of Okhna, still and dense, like liquid pearl, concealing the dark depths. The mountains hovered in this white abyss, their peaks, touched by the sun's first rosy kiss, floated in weightlessness, severed from the earth like crystalline islands. And then, a miracle occurred. The sun, without breaking through as a blinding ray, began not to shine, but to *infuse* the fog from within. The cold milk transformed into flowing gold, the ashen whiteness into shining lavender and tender shades of opal pink. The world ignited with a soft, internal radiance, as if the planet itself was emitting a quiet, fantastical light. The trees on the shore, dressed in heavy, fluffy coats of frost, emerged from the haze like spectral guardians, their branch-paws studded with billions of tiny diamonds. The air was cold and sharp as a blade, but every breath burned not with frost, but with purity. It was intoxicating and thick, as if one could quench their thirst with it. In this divine silence, where there was neither a rustle nor a chirp, it seemed one could hear the light sliding over the frost crystals, giving birth to a silent music of the spheres. This was not merely a dawn. It was a sacrament of transformation. The boundary between reality and dream, between water and sky, earth and air, was erased. For those few magical minutes, Okhn was not a lake in the mountains, but a gateway to a lost, ineffably beautiful world, ruled by silence, light, and a primordial, fantastical beauty.
Prompt: Bright fantastic sun had not yet risen, but the night had already surrendered, yielding the sky to pale, washed-out hues. A thick, milky, pearlescent fog drifted over the river. It coiled just above the water's surface, hiding the opposite bank and transforming the familiar landscape into a mysterious, unknown world. The water was perfectly still, with only the dark silhouettes of the coastal reeds emerging here and there from the misty shroud. Their reflections trembled on the dark, almost black surface, mingling with the ghostly colors of the sky. The air was humid and cool; it nipped at your cheeks with a light freshness and smelled of wet leaves, willow, and damp earth. And then, right in the thick of the fog, the first ray of light was born. It was dim and hazy, but the fog seemed to absorb it, beginning to glow from within with a soft, pinkish-golden radiance. The outlines of the trees on the far bank showed through the haze like a mirage—fiery flashes of crimson and gold. This was not just a sunrise. It was a sacrament of awakening, a moment of quiet magic when nature holds its breath before the start of a new day.
Prompt: The sun had not yet risen, but the night had already surrendered, yielding the sky to pale, washed-out hues. A thick, milky, pearlescent fog drifted over the river. It coiled just above the water's surface, hiding the opposite bank and transforming the familiar landscape into a mysterious, unknown world. The water was perfectly still, with only the dark silhouettes of the coastal reeds emerging here and there from the misty shroud. Their reflections trembled on the dark, almost black surface, mingling with the ghostly colors of the sky. The air was humid and cool; it nipped at your cheeks with a light freshness and smelled of wet leaves, willow, and damp earth. And then, right in the thick of the fog, the first ray of light was born. It was dim and hazy, but the fog seemed to absorb it, beginning to glow from within with a soft, pinkish-golden radiance. The outlines of the trees on the far bank showed through the haze like a mirage—fiery flashes of crimson and gold. This was not just a sunrise. It was a sacrament of awakening, a moment of quiet magic when nature holds its breath before the start of a new day.
Prompt: Create a soft, mist-soaked wet-on-wet watercolour scene, using very diluted paints, loose flowing washes, and a cool winter palette of muted greys, icy blues, and faint yellow tints, touched with occasional silver or gold shimmer. Keep the composition minimalist, impressionistic, and text-free.
Depict a lone woman in a striking red coat walking along the edge of a frozen lake. Her vivid silhouette stands out against the subdued, snow-heavy landscape. Out on the ice, a small boat lies trapped and motionless, its form softened by frost. A couple of slender silver birch trees nearby rise through the haze, their pale trunks and bare branches blending gently into the cold air.
The snow should feel deep and cushioning, blurring shapes and reflecting the diffuse light. Let distant details melt into a soft fog so the whole scene feels quiet, indistinct, and dreamlike
Depict a happy girl in a bright yellow coat and green wellies making her way through deep snow along a quiet country lane. The scene should feel serene and slightly ethereal, with the snowy landscape melting softly into the mist around her. Light reflects subtly off the smooth snow, and distant shapes,hedgerows, trees, or a faint fence line,fade gently into the background, enhancing the tranquil, wintry mood.
Prompt: lofi cartoon aesthetic, chiaroscuro, cool blue and green palette, line art
A cozy, repurposed train carriage at dusk, with warm moonbeams streaming through large windows that overlooks a single nearby pond. The carriage is adorned with vibrant neon blue signs that cast a soft glow into the carriage. A door and wooden steps provide access. Outside, a young woman in a relaxed yoga pose on a mat wears comfortable shorts and an oversized t-shirt, her posture calm and focused as she enjoys the last light of day. The apartment is small but filled with life—houseplants line shelves and corners, and a few futuristic gadgets and minimal furniture create a cozy yet modern space. The warm dusk tones mix with neon reflections, casting gentle, colorful glows across the room, capturing a serene blend of lofi and futuristic vibes
unreal engine, greg rutkowski, loish, rhads, beeple, makoto shinkai detailed and intricate environment
Prompt: A prize winning AI generated splash paint upper body portrait of a wild-haired young woman wearing an insanely intricate dress; she has beautiful eyes and delicate Celtic features and milky skin; she is posing on a white beach; she has spectacular long multicoloured hair blowing in the breeze; backlit, watercolour, bold pastel colours, wet on wet, speed paint, soft and gentle, powerful splash effect, drip effect, voluminous tresses, heavy eye make-up, her hair has a fringe across her forehead, many paint droplets and splash border; the expression on her face is defiant
Prompt: A cute fluffy red squirrel curled up on a tree branch, its soft tail transforming into bright autumn leaves in warm orange and golden colors. Gentle sunlight shining through the trees, cozy dreamy autumn atmosphere, magical fairytale feeling, soft focus background, detailed fur, warm glow, adorable style illustration.
(no humans, no distortion, natural squirrel shape)
Prompt: Iridescent watercolor painting, wet on wet (((Masterpiece))) Sunrise on a misty morning, over a misty pond in the height of fall. watercolor by Alison Brady. Pastel colors. On course watercolor paper. alcohol ink watercolor encaustic oil pen and ink painting with very rich translucent hues. No frame no artifacts no words, golden ratio.
Prompt: Street in,a town, mist and smoke, dark gray color, red lights, hard rain, and watercolor patchwork by Picasso and Caspar David Friedrich and Daniel Merriam
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.
5d
