Placeholder: [Shattered Image, Shot the texture and then rewound the film and double exposed from a 1939 B colour series movie] The Wizard of Oz's iconic scene [Shattered Image, Shot the texture and then rewound the film and double exposed from a 1939 B colour series movie] The Wizard of Oz's iconic scene

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[Shattered Image, Shot the texture and then rewound the film and double exposed from a 1939 B colour series movie] The Wizard of Oz's iconic scene

distorted image, malformed body, malformed fingers

3 months ago

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Model

SSD-1B

Guidance Scale

7

Dimensions

1024 × 1024

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[Shattered Image, Shot the texture and then rewound the film and double exposed from a 1939 B colour series movie] The Wizard of Oz's iconic scene
Their dreams are our nightmares
… She lived in a world of magic Possessed by the devil's skew From her shack near the swampland That's made of mud-pie brick Marie stirred her witch's brew
The hobbit's eyes grew wide as celestial stars. "Welcome, sir!" cried he, still grinning. "What brings you to this humble inn?" The elf smiled, soft as a breeze through young leaves. "I come in search of the finest brew in all the Shire. Might your skilled hands work their magic for me?" "It would be my honor indeed!" said the hobbit, and set to his task with more mirth than ever. He selected beans plump with sun, grinding and tamping with special care. Two perfect shots were pulled, and steamed
The deadline looms as the unearthly music swells around me. Another mysterious tale takes shape amid the flickering lights and scrapes of stone on stone. What monsters will crawl from the recesses of my mind this time? Mama Yaga's watching, as always, from her crooked hut in the grim forest. I can feel her beady eyes peering through the gloom, waiting to see what images I will weave with pen and ink. The pressure builds, a familiar intruder, but inspiration remains elusive. The radio spirits off
It sis darlls focrapt arn alivel. I art live nothing pooff, Iny alive wimetbou, Late of nothing, It sis. tame, by alive, rairts dapllam, Mothing preofs and I rabe roead for raim, landensfite day.
Nightmare Harvest Festival. The eerie vibes of Halloween combined with the bountiful themes of harvest. Haunted corn mazes, ghostly scarecrows, and spooky pumpkin patches. The town of Willow Creek was once known for its bountiful harvests, but now it's shrouded in darkness during the annual Nightmare Harvest Festival. The air is thick with the scent of rotting pumpkins and the sounds of whispered chants fill the night. The townspeople gather under the pale moonlight, their faces hidden behind gr
The deadline looms as the unearthly music swells around me. Another mysterious tale takes shape amid the flickering lights and scrapes of stone on stone. What monsters will crawl from the recesses of my mind this time? Mama Yaga's watching, as always, from her crooked hut in the grim forest. I can feel her beady eyes peering through the gloom, waiting to see what images I will weave with pen and ink. The pressure builds, a familiar intruder, but inspiration remains elusive. The radio spirits off
[The Demon Project 048: from Pan's Labyrinth (2006)] a scene where sinister demons roam a dark, otherworldly landscape, their twisted forms blending seamlessly with the eerie environment. The demons, born from the depths of imagination and brought to life through digital artistry, exude a malevolent energy that sends shivers down your spine. The intricate details and haunting atmosphere evoke a sense of dread and fascination, drawing you into a realm where the boundary between reality and nightm
The deadline looms as the unearthly music swells around me. Another mysterious tale takes shape amid the flickering lights and scrapes of stone on stone. What monsters will crawl from the recesses of my mind this time? Mama Yaga's watching, as always, from her crooked hut in the grim forest. I can feel her beady eyes peering through the gloom, waiting to see what images I will weave with pen and ink. The pressure builds, a familiar intruder, but inspiration remains elusive. The radio spirits off
The deadline looms as the unearthly music swells around me. Another mysterious tale takes shape amid the flickering lights and scrapes of stone on stone. What monsters will crawl from the recesses of my mind this time? Mama Yaga's watching, as always, from her crooked hut in the grim forest. I can feel her beady eyes peering through the gloom, waiting to see what images I will weave with pen and ink. The pressure builds, a familiar intruder, but inspiration remains elusive. The radio spirits off
[very impressive high res masterpiece in Kodak Eastman 5247, scene by László Krasznahorkai] Oh-oh, here she comes (watch out) She'll only come out at night, ooh Oh-oh, here she comes (here she comes) She's a man-eater, ooh-ooh [Pan's Labyrinth (2006)]
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