Dreaming in Color

Here is another batch of AI ‘embellishments’ that I did last night, elaborating some of my old drawings, as one does. How much the pictures thus produced may be called mine is a strange question; of course, I produce the general design and provide notes to elaborate on them, while the AI does all the fiddly bits that I have neither the expertise nor patience to apply. I have to say the vision is all mine and is something no algorithm can generate.

Case in point, Bryan Babel in Oz. The drawing dates back to 1984 or 1985. Del Rey was in the process of reprinting all the old Oz books, and now were getting into the Ruth Plumley Thompson sequels, ‘Founded on and Continuing the Famous Oz Books.’ I did this parody of a cover, a caricature of me with cross on a chain and bamboo ‘staff,’ ramping through Oz to the horror of the Scarecrow and Tin Woodsman.

The Devil and His Followers Cross the Dee tries to reproduce an illustration that I saw in a dream. A drawing of an illustration that I saw in a dream. The weird thing is that years later I ran into a painting that bore a more than passing resemblance to it. Had I seen it before somewhere, and forgotten it with my waking mind?

Dreamsky is not from a dream. Or was it? Maybe just dreamlike. Hm. It shows a figure invoking a spell to part the clouds and reveal the moon.

The Book Grim is an imaginary spirit I made up, a gnome that haunts and protects libraries. The original Grim does not look so ‘grim’ but rather wistful and melancholy. The background is provided by AI from my prompt.

Bronze Dragon is perhaps the most AI and least Brer of the pictures in this batch. Not only did AI elaborate many of the details (though I had drawn many elements of the fiddly parts), it also rearranged the composition quite a bit.

Lady Willow supplies an illustration for a short story of the same name published on this blog. But I drew the original picture back in high school.

The original Samuel had a more wistful look as he mourned over the loss of a tree. He was based at first on Samwise Gamgee as he restored the Shire after the War of the Ring; the boots and lack of hairy feet made me later reconsider the title (not quite accurate, I felt) as a sort of backhanded reference to its inception.

A Spirit of the Air shows a strange elemental treading through the heavens, his scepter a moving point of light like a falling star. Who? Why? Your guess is as good as mine. Looking back, I might have provided him with a smaller nose. The final production looks very Hildebrandtish, especially the Greg Hildebrandt of A Christmas Carol.

Our Engineer in Action

I wonder if ChatGPT would consider this a p*rn* flick?

Friday Fiction: Worth a Thousand Words

Last night was unusually productive; I find it helps not only to have a picture, but also an explanation about the details. Some are retries: these two versions of She's Walking Through the Clouds are much closer to the original sketch; Patrick is more like a pirate than a leprechaun (all I suggested was to change the hat to a tricorne); I tried to refine Ogre, but the program seems to insist the head is a skull, and stubbornly resists giving him lips or a nose. I've drawn many castles and dragons in my time. The Dark Window and Demon  evoke the darker side of my imagintion; Demon in particular was drawn at the same time I was making illustrations for The Inferno in Mrs. Hardcastle's World Literature class in my Junior year. The first picture, Duel with Death, is one of my newer pictures. Still pretty old, though. 'These same crosses spoil me' now.

And Selected Shorts

 

This is the Age of Miracle and Wonder

 

The Shaow Library: Gods and Giants

I was idly browsing Amazon the other day, considering whether to buy new copies of The Elder (or Prose) Edda and The Poetic Edda (I had sent my last set to Kenny in Florida) when I ran across this old thing and was reminded that I had it ages ago. I even remember reading it some at Aunt Wimpy's house. But I don't think I'd have ever remembered it if I hadn't run across it by accident. Unfortunate cover.

Last Night's Crop

I made more illustrations from old drawings with ChatGPT last night. I must be getting better at describing what I want or something, though as usual there are elements I would want to tweak. I begin with the sexy Borrisk, followed up with a birthday card (it should read Brer-thday) that John made me in 1990. She's Walking Through the Clouds (of which there are two versions) is the least like what I had in mind, but once created I am reluctant to discard anything. The Ogre's not bad, if not as gangly as I imagined, and a little too skull-like (especially the nose); but I was able to correct certain original elements (a torch instead of a flashlight, medieval garb instead of modern clothes). Patrick the parrot-like elemental (from my story When He Awoke) was produced from the sketchiest sketch.  Perhaps my description of 'half-Leprechaun' was a little too suggestive. The Raven of Truth is another one of my oldest drawings.  I was particularly pleased with Region of the Summer Stars, which captured exactly the twilight atmosphere I was going for.

This is probably the last version of Elf and Bear I'm going to try. It is ... satisfactory, though the Elf is not as pissed off as I imagined, and Bear is smaller than I would want. Maybe he was just younger.

It is an unusual experience developing these things. While I consider how to describe the details, I remember where I was when I drew the picture, what I had hoped for it, and how I felt at the time. I had a lot of emotion invested while I was drawing stuff, and this stirs up a lot of thoughts from the past. And weird feelings about the future.