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大雨

#lying down#Book#Boy
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Prompts on PixAI are public by default, but creators can hide them on any artwork they publish. The creator of this one chose to, so the words used to generate the image stay private — only they can see them. Hiding a prompt doesn't change anything else: the artwork is still public, and you can like, comment on and share it as usual.
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Avatar image of fishyfishyfish
1girl, solo, young girl, long blonde hair, grey eyes, sitting, sitting on floor, stacked books, lots of books, pile of books, surrounded by books, lost in thoughts, calm expression, closed mouth, half-closed eyes, looking down, blue dress, sleeveless dress, pleated skirt, extravagant room, tall bookshelves, cool tones, blue palette, from below, low angle, cowboy shot, heavy atmosphere, dust motes, volumetric light, hand on book, head tilt, knees up Low camera placed near the floor, tilted up: the girl sits in the middle of a ring of stacked hardcovers, knees drawn up and turned to her left, her weight settled on her right hip and right thigh flat on the parquet, left knee higher, left foot tucked under the right calf. Her right hand rests palm-flat on the top board of the nearest stack beside her hip, fingers just over its fore-edge; her left forearm lies across her raised knee, the hand loose and empty. Her blonde hair falls in two long curtains over her shoulders, one lock slipping forward across her collarbone, the ends pooling on the floorboards among the books. She wears a sleeveless blue dress in plain cotton, its pleated skirt fanned and creased where it presses the floor, the hem riding up over her right knee. Her head tilts slightly toward her lowered left shoulder; grey eyes are half-lidded and cast down and away to the lower right, unfocused on anything, fixed on the gap between two book spines; lips closed and relaxed, brows level, no smile -- thought that has gone quiet and a little far away. The stacks surround her at uneven heights, some waist-high, spines worn at the corners, a few volumes open face-down to hold a place, one leaning tower ready to topple. Extravagant room behind and above: a coffered ceiling with gilt moulding, a tall arched window at the left, carved panelling climbing into shadow, the tops of the shelves lost beyond the upper edge of the frame. Cool key light pours in from that window in one broad shaft, catching the blonde hair, the near cheek, the top edges of the book pages and the upper folds of the dress; everything below and to the right of her falls into blue-grey shadow, and her small cast shadow lies stretched across the boards toward the camera. The light shaft is thick with drifting dust, each mote bright and the air around them visibly hazy, so the beam reads as a solid pale-blue volume of air. Palette held to cool tones only: dusty blue, slate grey, silver-gilt trim, cold pale skin, no warm accent admitted. Impasto-influenced anime painting with pronounced lighting highlights, luminous highlights against rich muted tones, a subtle retro flair mixed with Western illustration, textured visible brushwork in the gilt and the fabric. Quiet, heavy, contemplative.
fishyfishyfish
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1girl, solo, blonde hair, long hair, grey eyes, sitting, sitting on floor, stacked books, lots of books, pile of books, surrounded by books, leather-bound books, calm expression, expressionless, lost in thoughts, staring into space, looking down, heavy atmosphere, extravagant room, cool tones, high collar, navy blue wool sweater, pleated skirt, plaid skirt, charcoal grey skirt, knees up, arms resting on knees, chin on arms, from above, high angle, wide shot, dim lighting, dust motes, bookshelf, tall window, muted colors, cinematic lighting Seen from above at a steep high angle, the girl sits small in the lower third of the frame, knees drawn up on the polished dark wood floor, both arms folded across her knees with her chin resting on her forearms; her weight settles back on her hips, one bare ankle crossed over the other, the pleated charcoal grey plaid skirt pooling in a fan of folds around her thighs. Precarious towers of leather-bound books rise around her in a loose ring — deep brown and forest green spines, gilt bands worn thin, a few volumes leaning out of true, one stack taller than her head — and she is nested in the gap between them, her blonde hair falling in a long loose curtain past her shoulders, a few strands stuck flat against the crown of her head. Her grey eyes are lowered and unfocused, aimed at nothing on the floor a metre ahead of her, lids heavy and mouth closed in a still, flat line; one finger taps absently at the sleeve of her navy blue high-collared wool sweater, the collar folded up around her throat. A tall window off frame left is the only light: cool blue-grey daylight rakes across the floor from the left, striking the tops of the book stacks and the crown of her hair while the shadowed sides of the towers and the space under her knees fall into deep cool darkness, and the shelf-lined walls of the extravagant room — carved cornices, a coffered ceiling, a chandelier hanging dark and unlit — recede into a blue hush beyond her. Dust drifts in the light shafts, brightest where it crosses the beam. The palette stays in cool registers: slate blue, grey-green, tarnished silver and charcoal, with the blonde of her hair the single warm note. Quiet, heavy stillness.
fishyfishyfish

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