Mira Stevie Jem Cloud Fantasy. Model: Mira, Stevie Raquel, Jemstarlight Moon
Elementals. Water and Fire. Exploring the nature of life and infinite space and energy in a whimsical way that explains nothing, but at least draws visual links to stimulate wonder about the nature of life, the elements, energy, and our relationship to the universe. Combination of model photographs, MidJourney AI, and PhotoShop. I have included the original photo of Jenn and Crystal in front of the green screen so you can see the raw beginning and the final result. Models: Jenn Michelle @jenn__michellle , Crystal Nichole @taurusbbbyy
Crystal in Congregation of Potato People. Model: Crystal A
Church of the Potato People
In the Church of the Tuber, where spuds convene,
A congregation of potato people, a sight unseen.
Their eyes, like russet orbs, fixed on the sacred ground,
As they gather in reverence, in silence profound.
Starch-filled hearts beat in unison, a tater’s devotion,
In pews of mashed delight, a tuberous emotion.
The pulpit adorned with skins, a priestly spud ascends,
Preaching the gospel of the harvest, where the potato life transcends.
But amid the devout, a stranger unknown,
A beauty in disguise, a presence all her own.
She, an outsider, a radiant yam,
In the sea of potatoes, a singular glam.
Her skin, a golden hue, not of earthly soil,
A sweet fragrance of difference, a celestial foil.
Yet, she hides among them, a secret delight,
In the congregation’s eyes, a clandestine light.
The potato people, unaware of her grace,
Continue their worship in the starchy space.
But the outsider listens, absorbing their prayer,
In the silence of tubers, a connection rare.
As the sermon concludes, and the congregation disbands,
The outsider reveals herself, a rose in the lands.
The potatoes, astonished, yet welcoming still,
In this diverse church, love trumps the thrill.
For in the Church of the Tuber, diversity blooms,
In the richness of differences, unity looms.
Potato people and yams, together they stand,
In the spud-filled sanctuary, hand in hand.
Nude in Public Nightmare Model: Destiny
Destiny’s Naked Nightmare
In the realm of midnight’s haunting veil,
Destiny, stripped bare, wanders frail.
Through streets unknown, a surreal domain,
A nightmare’s grip, a relentless chain.
Naked truth adrift in shadows’ keep,
A city unfamiliar, lost in sleep.
Whispers of forgotten tales entwine,
As Destiny treads through the ghostly line.
Moonlit alleys, cobblestone dreams,
Echoes of silence, or so it seems.
Mysterious faces leer from the shade,
In the abandoned city, where fears cascade.
Twisted figures with eyes unknown,
Their gazes pierce through flesh and bone.
A carnival of the bizarre, a midnight parade,
Destiny’s essence on display, betrayed.
Lurking in corners, figures bizarre,
Dancing with shadows, beneath the stars.
Wraiths and phantoms, specters unkind,
In the surreal recesses of Destiny’s mind.
The city breathes, an entity obscure,
As Destiny stumbles, unsure.
Her footprints echo in deserted streets,
A symphony of solitude, where destiny meets.
The clock strikes midnight, a haunting chime,
As Destiny navigates the corridors of time.
Naked vulnerability in the moonlight,
A captive in her own nightmare’s spite.
Through this desolate city, she roams,
A captive soul in the cosmic catacombs.
Yet, in the heart of this dream-like despair,
Destiny seeks escape, a silent prayer.
In the labyrinth of the mind, she’s confined,
A dreamer lost in the corridors of the mind.
In the strange, surreal city, where shadows play,
Destiny yearns for the light of a new day.