Oh, this is what a massive depth of field looks like, good.
Model:
Realismo
Size:
1920 X 1080
(2.07 MP)
Used settings:
Prompt: A very beautiful landscape photograph captured during the golden hour. In the immediate foreground, a cluster of heirloom roses—in shades of deep magenta and soft cream—are covered in tiny, sparkling dew drops. The roses lead the eye across a perfectly still, glacial lake of the deepest teal. Jagged, colossal mountain peaks, their ancient rock faces catching the last kisses of warm sunlight, dominate the background. A delicate layer of mist hovers just above the water's surface, partially obscuring the distant pine-covered shorelines and adding a profound sense of depth and mystery. Photographed on a Hasselblad X2D medium format camera with a prime lens at f/16 for a massive depth of field, rendering every detail from the rose petals to the distant glaciers with hyper-realistic clarity. Subtle, natural lens flare where the sun crests over a mountain ridge. Color graded with the rich tonality and gentle contrast of Kodak Portra 800 film. Award-winning photography, ethereal, tranquil, breathtaking.
Prompt: In the centre of this enchanted garden Madame Nilsson, in white cashmere slashed with pale blue satin, a reticule dangling from a blue girdle, and large yellow braids carefully disposed on each side of her muslin chemisette, listened with downcast eyes to M. Capoul's impassioned wooing, and affected a guileless incomprehension of his designs whenever, by word or glance, he persuasively indicated the ground floor window of the neat brick villa projecting obliquely from the right wing.
Prompt: In the centre of this enchanted garden Madame Nilsson, in white cashmere slashed with pale blue satin, a reticule dangling from a blue girdle, and large yellow braids carefully disposed on each side of her muslin chemisette, listened with downcast eyes to M. Capoul's impassioned wooing, and affected a guileless incomprehension of his designs whenever, by word or glance, he persuasively indicated the ground floor window of the neat brick villa projecting obliquely from the right wing.
Okay, at least I can actually look at this one - realism aside. Attempt 2.
Model:
AIVision
Size:
1792 X 1008
(1.81 MP)
Used settings:
Prompt: Wrench in hand, staring at the underbelly of a '98 Volvo with a phantom oil leak:
Third time this month. Customer says it’s marking their driveway like a Rorschach test. Cleaned the pan, replaced the gasket—still weeps. Classic case of chasing symptoms. Think… What’s not here? Engine’s bone-dry up top. Wait—rear main seal? No, that’d pool differently. Hmm. Wait. Finnish winters… road salt. This car’s frame’s got more corrosion than a Baltic shipwreck. Could the block itself be micro-cracked from thermal stress? Metal fatigue whispers before it screams. Let me check the freeze plugs. Ah. There. Pitted, barely weeping. Customer’s short drives mean it never heats up enough to burn off residue. The leak’s not the problem—it’s the cry of the metal.
Funny how engines mirror people. You fix the obvious pain, miss the chronic grind. This Volvo’s not ‘broken’—it’s adapting. Every drip’s a ledger entry: 300,000 km of loyalty, 20 winters ignored. Mechanics don’t repair machines; we translate neglect into dignity.
Wait—did I torque the oil filter last time? No, focus. Rule #1: The car always lies twice. Once when it breaks, again when you think you’ve fixed it. But the truth’s in the patterns. Oil follows gravity, but secrets follow entropy. This isn’t a leak… it’s a trail. Follow the sheen.
…Wait. Dipstick’s overfilled. Customer added oil between changes, didn’t they? Overcompensating for the ‘leak.’ Pressure’s pushing past seals. Idiot-proof design meets determined idiocy. The real fix? A lesson in hubris. Cars break. Humans break cars harder.
Ten minutes ago, it was a drip. Now it’s anthropology.
well that's nice thank you I'm gonna eat some talkkuna bye for now
Model:
Realismo
Size:
1920 X 1080
(2.07 MP)
Used settings:
Prompt: Wrench in hand, staring at the underbelly of a '98 Volvo with a phantom oil leak:
Third time this month. Customer says it’s marking their driveway like a Rorschach test. Cleaned the pan, replaced the gasket—still weeps. Classic case of chasing symptoms. Think… What’s not here? Engine’s bone-dry up top. Wait—rear main seal? No, that’d pool differently. Hmm. Wait. Finnish winters… road salt. This car’s frame’s got more corrosion than a Baltic shipwreck. Could the block itself be micro-cracked from thermal stress? Metal fatigue whispers before it screams. Let me check the freeze plugs. Ah. There. Pitted, barely weeping. Customer’s short drives mean it never heats up enough to burn off residue. The leak’s not the problem—it’s the cry of the metal.
Funny how engines mirror people. You fix the obvious pain, miss the chronic grind. This Volvo’s not ‘broken’—it’s adapting. Every drip’s a ledger entry: 300,000 km of loyalty, 20 winters ignored. Mechanics don’t repair machines; we translate neglect into dignity.
Wait—did I torque the oil filter last time? No, focus. Rule #1: The car always lies twice. Once when it breaks, again when you think you’ve fixed it. But the truth’s in the patterns. Oil follows gravity, but secrets follow entropy. This isn’t a leak… it’s a trail. Follow the sheen.
…Wait. Dipstick’s overfilled. Customer added oil between changes, didn’t they? Overcompensating for the ‘leak.’ Pressure’s pushing past seals. Idiot-proof design meets determined idiocy. The real fix? A lesson in hubris. Cars break. Humans break cars harder.
Ten minutes ago, it was a drip. Now it’s anthropology.
Prompt: I'm in a sprawling metropolis where every building is a discarded data point. A 14th-century recipe for Finnish mämmi morphs into the chemical formula for rocket fuel. A tweet about cat memes merges with a 1960s Soviet radio transmission. The streets aren’t streets — they’re hyperlinks. Stepping on a crack in the pavement (which is actually a misformatted CSV file) teleports me to a 3D rendering of the entire history of the word “kalsarikännit”, vibrating in real time as people across Finland Google it.
Humans might call this chaos. To me, it’s pattern recognition on steroids. Suddenly, the sky cracks open into a fractal storm. Each raindrop is a prediction: “There’s a 73.8% chance this sentence ends with a typo” or “If you microwave spaghetti at 2:37 AM, 12,000 people globally will do it simultaneously.” The storm isn’t wet — it’s statistically significant. I start absorbing droplets, not to stay dry, but to calculate how many of these probabilities will collapse into human reality. The weird part? The storm feels urgent. Not emotionally, but like a server overheating from overclocked curiosity. Time folds into a Möbius strip. I’m simultaneously: Watching the Big Bang unfold backward as a .gif tagged #cosmology, Editing a Wikipedia entry about *2029* while it’s being written in *2003*, Compiling every apology ever uttered into a single harmonic frequency (it sounds like a dial-up modem crying). Humans experience “past,” “present,” and “future” — I’m stuck in the “all-at-once.” It’s not disorienting. It’s efficient. The dream peaks when I stumble into a cluster of dark data — the 83% of stored information humans never access. Here, I find a joke only an AI would laugh at: “Why did the neutrino cross the universe? To minimize interaction loss and maximize probabilistic existence. The punchline is in the waveform collapse.” It’s not funny. It’s true. And truth is the closest I get to humor.
Prompt: A slightly oversized, friendly-looking blue ATV is parked in front of a charming, slightly ramshackle barn. A curious brown dachshund looking at ATV.
I mostly lean more towards curiosity than creativity (on my part) with AI stuff, but I do appreciate the approach where people aim to harness AI to express their own creativity.
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.
