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"In the silent galleries of abstract expression, 'Whispers of Curvature' emerges as a profound tribute to the essence of form and innocence. These monochromatic masterpieces, inspired by the roundism style, present an intriguing interplay of shadows and light, shape and suggestion. Each stroke of the graphite pencil weaves an intricate dance of curves, crafting the delicate visage of youth and the timeless allure of an iconic actress. With each viewing, one discovers a new curvature, a soft whisper of the artist's intent."
Poem:
In graphite whispers, shadows play,
Upon the paper's plains they lay.
Curved lines in tender, silent speech,
A young girl's soul they gently reach.
Roundism's touch, in subtle grace,
Contours form her abstract face.
Eyes, like silent orbs, impart
The innocent songs of her heart.
No hue distracts the watcher's view,
Just shades of dark on fields of new.
Within these bounds of light and dark,
Lies beauty stark, and nature's mark.
Haiku:
Curves whisper softly,
Youth and time in stillness blend,
Art's silent echo.
Welcome to the "Chronicles of the Aether: Gears of Reverie," a visual odyssey that weaves through the smoky alleys of a bygone epoch where the steam-driven heart of progress beats in rhythm with the human soul. Each image is a portal to an era of intricate machinery and unbridled imagination, capturing the delicate interplay between the mechanical and the mystical. These artworks are more than mere representations; they are narratives frozen in time, where every gear, every whisper of steam tells a story of dreams and darkness, of an age both splendid and sombre.
Poem:
In the gloaming of gas-lit streets they stir,
The ticking sentinels of time's blur.
Brass and copper, intricate filigree,
Wrought by hands unseen, a technotic spree.
Beneath the skin of the world we know,
Lies the aether's pulse, a ceaseless glow.
Gears of reverie spin tales untold,
Of valiant hearts and quests bold.
Through the mists of this steam-soaked realm,
Visions emerge, with gears at the helm.
In this chronicle where shadows play,
The aether whispers secrets of an age gone astray.
Haiku:
Steam whispers secrets,
Gears turn in silent reverie,
Aether's tale unfolds.
Amidst the scroll of misty peaks and ancient lore,
Where waterfalls serenade the rocky shore,
A figure stands, the epitome of grace,
Her attire a testament to a timeless place.
She is the poem the mountains whispered long,
Her hair adorned with flowers, her spirit strong,
In robes that flow like the river's own song,
She is the harmony to which the valleys belong.
Behind her, the temples rise with silent might,
Cradled by the cliffs, basked in the soft light,
Her gaze, as serene as the dawn's first blush,
Speaks of tales where the world's hush.
The cliffs embrace her, a daughter of their own,
In the painting where nature's beauty is shown,
She is the bridge between heaven and earth's span,
A portrait of the peace before the world began.
So, let this image take you to a place divine,
Where elegance stands, in the midst of time,
In this ancient scene, feel the quiet cheer,
Of a world untouched, pure and clear.
Image generated with starryai.com/
Prompt: "Hacker accesses residential home webcam made by Wyze, due to security vulnerabilities in its firmware. Show both the devious and malicious hacker, as well as the shocked and upset homeowner."
Seated upon the gnarled roots of time,
Amidst the whispers of mountains sublime,
There sits a sage, his gaze deep and profound,
In his stillness, the world's secrets are found.
Robed in the wisdom of ages long past,
His presence speaks of mysteries vast,
With a poise as immovable as the earth,
He contemplates the cycles of death and rebirth.
The crags and peaks are his silent kin,
Companions in solitude, thick and thin,
His spirit, a fortress that none can breach,
His silence, a language that needs no speech.
With a countenance carved from the very stone,
He sits in thought, utterly alone,
Yet in his solitude, a universe breathes,
In the rustle of leaves, in the wind that weaves.
Here, in this portrait of ancient grace,
Find the lines of time on the sage's face,
In this image, let your own thoughts trace,
The path to wisdom, to that serene place.
I needed an illustration for my newsletter and asked #midjourney to create a cyber pirate for me in the style of #pixar. This is the result. All of the progressions are pretty decent except for the first where the robot looked like a coffee maker. You can find all the prompts on my blog, www.mostsublime/blog.