Prompt: Style by Lyonel Feininger, abstract, a 3D lighthouse and a stormy sea at midnight, Winter time expressionist painting style of Yossi Kotler Art, Klimt, Renoir
Prompt: In the dim light of this sterile enclosure, I stand, a cow, a silent witness to the echoes of despair that reverberate within these cold walls. Each muted moo echoes the tale of innocence lost, a chorus of silent pleas unheard by indifferent ears. The pungent scent of fear hangs heavy in the air, mingling with the metallic tang of impending doom. My eyes, mirrors of a soul that knows not its fate, reflect the somber truth that binds us all in this final act. The rhythmic thud of approaching footsteps sends shivers through my being, a prelude to the inevitable. I ponder the serenity of green pastures, a distant memory fading like the setting sun. In this symphony of sorrow, I find myself at the mercy of a fate predetermined, a mere creature resigned to the unforgiving hands of time and circumstance.
Prompt: Amidst the emerald canopy where the rainforest breathes, I am a parrot, a feathered voyager of vibrant hues and I ponder the symphony of nature. My plumes, a palette of verdant greens and sapphire blues, mirror the lush tapestry that envelops me. Through the rhythmic pitter-patter of raindrops, I dance upon branches, a winged minstrel echoing the forest's secrets. Each chirp and rustle becomes a sonnet, a testament to the interconnected ballet of life that unfolds beneath the vast emerald theater. From the whispering leaves to the distant calls of kindred spirits, I am but a feathered witness to the ceaseless narrative of the rainforest, where every creature and leaf, a storyteller in this ancient chronicle. And as I take flight through the verdant expanse, my wings carry not just the weight of plumes but the echoes of a jungle's soul, a soliloquy woven by nature's hand.
Prompt: As I flutter through the crisp azure sky, a monarch butterfly on a majestic journey, I find solace in the rhythmic dance of my delicate wings. The sun's warm embrace propels me southward, a nomad seeking refuge in the ethereal warmth of Mexico's ancient oyamel fir forests. Each beat of my wings whispers tales of ancestral migrations, a legacy etched in nature's script. Beneath, the Earth transforms, a patchwork quilt of vibrant landscapes. I marvel at the rivers and mountains, witnesses to the passage of time. My kin, scattered like autumn leaves, join this great procession—a kaleidoscope of orange and black against the canvas of a boundless sky. Yet, as I embark on this odyssey, a solitary pilgrimage, a poignant realization flutters within me. I am but a fleeting chapter in the chronicle of generations, a delicate brushstroke in the grand mural of life. May the winds carry my story, my essence, to distant ears, and may my journey echo in the whispers of future wings.
Prompt: A wolf howling at a full moon at night with a a stunning black sky, intricate, detailed, extremely-ultra-detailed line-art, Zentangle Art, by Charles Wysocki, Ivan Generalic, Aubrey Beardsley, Salvador Dali, Ivan Lackovic
Prompt: In the quiet shadows of the night, I, a rooster, stands vigilant, feathers ruffled against the cool embrace of darkness. The world sleeps, wrapped in a shroud of stillness, as if time itself holds its breath. Yet, within me stirs an anticipation, a primal rhythm that pulses through my being. The ebony sky is my canvas, adorned with stars like gleaming jewels, and I, the lone sentinel, await the maestro's cue. Oh, the impending crescendo of dawn, where the inky abyss yields to the warm hues of day! With each passing moment, my heart quickens, a cadence matching the unseen conductor orchestrating the celestial symphony. My comb, a vibrant banner, yearns to catch the first rays, and my voice, a clarion call, aches to break the silence. As the veil of night dissipates, I shall unleash the anthem of a new day, proclaiming my existence in this timeless ritual. For in this transition, I am reborn, a herald of the sun's resplendent ascent.
Prompt: In this cornfield, i am a lonely scarecrow on a stick who stands alone. My straw-stuffed form, a mockery of life, yearns for the warmth of companionship that the winds of neglect deny me. Each day, I watch the world dance by—laughter echoing from afar, birds soaring freely, while I remain tethered to this forlorn post. My patched garments cling to me like faded memories, a testament to endless days and nights spent in silent vigil. Oh, how I tire of the crows that mock my existence, their cackles a cruel reminder of the isolation I endure. I dream of a life beyond this wooden cross, where I could tread the earth with purpose, not merely to frighten away feathered intruders. The sun dips below the horizon, casting shadows upon my weary frame. As darkness descends, I whisper to the moon, my only confidant in this spectral symphony. Alas, my silent plea remains unanswered, and I stand, a lonely sentinel in a sea of endless emptiness.
Prompt: Being a bud is like living on the cusp of possibility. It's a state of anticipation and potential, a delicate balance between vulnerability and resilience. As a bud, you're tightly wrapped in protective layers, sheltered from the world's uncertainties. Your existence is defined by patience, as you wait for the perfect moment to unfurl and reveal your inner beauty. There's a sense of quiet strength in being a bud, a promise of growth and transformation. You feel the warmth of the sun and the caress of the breeze, nurturing your growth from within. Every day brings new sensations and subtle changes, as you inch closer to blooming. It's a journey of self-discovery, as you explore your identity and purpose. Being a bud is a reminder that growth takes time, and the world is full of wonders waiting to be unveiled. It's a unique and precious phase of life, where the potential of the future is cradled in the simplicity of the present.
Prompt: As the days grew shorter and autumn's chill crept across the land, a magical spectacle unfolded in the heart of North America. Millions of Monarch butterflies embarked on their incredible migration. These delicate creatures, with wings painted in shades of orange and black, were driven by an innate compass, their destination a remote forest in Mexico. In a synchronized ballet of nature, the Monarchs soared above fields and cities, covering thousands of miles. They faced countless challenges, from fierce winds to predators, yet they pressed on with unwavering determination. Along their journey, they sought nectar from vibrant wildflowers, providing a breathtaking spectacle for those lucky enough to witness it. Finally, they arrived at their ancestral sanctuary deep in the Mexican mountains, clustering together for warmth and protection. A vibrant sea of orange filled the forest, a testament to the enduring marvel of migration, a testament to nature's astounding beauty and resilience.
Prompt: As the days grew shorter and autumn's chill crept across the land, a magical spectacle unfolded in the heart of North America. Millions of Monarch butterflies embarked on their incredible migration. These delicate creatures, with wings painted in shades of orange and black, were driven by an innate compass, their destination a remote forest in Mexico. In a synchronized ballet of nature, the Monarchs soared above fields and cities, covering thousands of miles. They faced countless challenges, from fierce winds to predators, yet they pressed on with unwavering determination. Along their journey, they sought nectar from vibrant wildflowers, providing a breathtaking spectacle for those lucky enough to witness it. Finally, they arrived at their ancestral sanctuary deep in the Mexican mountains, clustering together for warmth and protection. A vibrant sea of orange filled the forest, a testament to the enduring marvel of migration, a testament to nature's astounding beauty and resilience.
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.
