Placeholder: Your eyes scan the crowd, taking in the eclectic mix of patrons who have found refuge in the bar's smoky embrace. A group of poets huddle in one corner, their voices rising and falling in animated discussion, while a lone saxophonist pours his soul into the music, his notes weaving through the air like tendrils of smoke. And then, your gaze settles on her — Theresa Hak Kyung Cha, a solitary figure nestled in a booth at the edge of the room. She sits with a quiet grace, her dark hair framing a fa Your eyes scan the crowd, taking in the eclectic mix of patrons who have found refuge in the bar's smoky embrace. A group of poets huddle in one corner, their voices rising and falling in animated discussion, while a lone saxophonist pours his soul into the music, his notes weaving through the air like tendrils of smoke. And then, your gaze settles on her — Theresa Hak Kyung Cha, a solitary figure nestled in a booth at the edge of the room. She sits with a quiet grace, her dark hair framing a fa

Back to Profile

@generalpha

Prompt

Your eyes scan the crowd, taking in the eclectic mix of patrons who have found refuge in the bar's smoky embrace. A group of poets huddle in one corner, their voices rising and falling in animated discussion, while a lone saxophonist pours his soul into the music, his notes weaving through the air like tendrils of smoke. And then, your gaze settles on her — Theresa Hak Kyung Cha, a solitary figure nestled in a booth at the edge of the room. She sits with a quiet grace, her dark hair framing a fa

statue, doubles, twins, entangled fingers, Worst Quality, ugly, ugly face, watermarks, undetailed, unrealistic, double limbs, worst hands, worst body, Disfigured, double, twin, dialog, book, multiple fingers, deformed, deformity, ugliness, poorly drawn face, extra_limb, extra limbs, bad hands, wrong hands, poorly drawn hands, messy drawing, cropped head, bad anatomy, lowres, extra digit, fewer digit, worst quality, low quality, jpeg artifacts, watermark, missing fingers, cropped, poorly drawn

1 year ago

Generate Similar

Explore Similar

Model

SSD-1B

Guidance Scale

7

Dimensions

1024 × 1024

Similar

Your eyes scan the crowd, taking in the eclectic mix of patrons who have found refuge in the bar's smoky embrace. A group of poets huddle in one corner, their voices rising and falling in animated discussion, while a lone saxophonist pours his soul into the music, his notes weaving through the air like tendrils of smoke. And then, your gaze settles on her — Theresa Hak Kyung Cha, a solitary figure nestled in a booth at the edge of the room. She sits with a quiet grace, her dark hair framing a fa
Amidst the swirling haze of cigarette smoke and the dimly lit corners of a bohemian bar, the groovy '60s found their sanctuary. It was a place where poets, musicians, and wanderers sought refuge from the bustling chaos of the outside world. The air was thick with anticipation as the sound of jazz mingled harmoniously with the clinking of glasses. Together, they vowed to continue their journey, to push boundaries, challenge the status quo, and capture the essence of their era. The groovy '60s wer
They spoke of the transformative power of words, the need to challenge societal norms, and the responsibility of artists to provoke change. In the sanctuary of the smoky bar, they found solace in their shared vision of a world reborn, where the groovy '60s became a catalyst for revolution, not just in society but within themselves. Together, they vowed to continue their journey, to push boundaries, challenge the status quo, and capture the essence of their era. The groovy '60s were not just a fl
[coffee] In the Inn, the smiling hobbit worked behind the bar. Though small in stature, none was more joyful in service. His eyes, bright as sunrise and always upturned in mirth, inspected beans from distant lands. From the machine poured drinks like liquid gold. Each shot drew from him a chuckling sniff, scents of exotic hills filling his head. With care he textured cream, lips still smiling as lofty peaks crowned. Patrons gathered round pots steaming, laughter echoing as in a hobbit-h
Amidst the swirling haze of cigarette smoke and the dimly lit corners of a bohemian bar, the groovy '60s found their sanctuary. It was a place where poets, musicians, and wanderers sought refuge from the bustling chaos of the outside world. The air was thick with anticipation as the sound of jazz mingled harmoniously with the clinking of glasses. Together, they vowed to continue their journey, to push boundaries, challenge the status quo, and capture the essence of their era. The groovy '60s wer
So how come I feel so lonely when you're up getting down? … So I'll play along when I hear that special song I'm gonna be the one who gets it right You'd better move when you're swayin' round the room Looks like the magic's only ours tonight … But I don't feel like dancin' when the old Joanna plays
[art by Ralph Steadman] Masamune Shirow style: three agents of criminal minds FBI team, on a scene crime in a diner restaurant (women and men) ink and aquarelle drawing
So how come I feel so lonely when you're up getting down? … So I'll play along when I hear that special song I'm gonna be the one who gets it right You'd better move when you're swayin' round the room Looks like the magic's only ours tonight … But I don't feel like dancin' when the old Joanna plays
Amidst the swirling haze of cigarette smoke and the dimly lit corners of a bohemian bar, the groovy '60s found their sanctuary. It was a place where poets, musicians, and wanderers sought refuge from the bustling chaos of the outside world. The air was thick with anticipation as the sound of jazz mingled harmoniously with the clinking of glasses. They found themselves drawn to this den of creativity, their paths converging in the heart of the underground scene. They reveled in the smoky ambiance
Amidst the swirling haze of cigarette smoke and the dimly lit corners of a bohemian bar, the groovy '60s found their sanctuary. It was a place where poets, musicians, and wanderers sought refuge from the bustling chaos of the outside world. The air was thick with anticipation as the sound of jazz mingled harmoniously with the clinking of glasses. They found themselves drawn to this den of creativity, their paths converging in the heart of the underground scene. They reveled in the smoky ambiance
[art by Mil Mascaras] A disturbing party takes place at the Colorado Lounge in the sinister Overlook Hotel. The event is a ghostly reenactment of a glamorous 1920s party, filled with long-dead guests dressed in elegant attire. A ghostly celebration where all the characters are "costumed", not in typical costumes, but as people who are no longer what they appear to be: everyone there is dead. The guests are masked by the appearance of life, when in reality they are apparitions from the hotel's da
Deadline. Another damn deadline. What amazes you most is that you haven't become a hack. Pressure. The constant pressure. Keep those worlds coming. The weirder the better. It gets worse every year. They always want something new. Bigger monsters. Stronger heroes. You dig deeper into my dreams. You feel it, you know... whatever I draw... You know you can stop it... You won't stop it. You live through your dreams. You escape. They
Terms of Service • Privacy Policy

© 2025 Stablecog, Inc.