A lot of various techniques, including upscaling and inpainting, as well as variation of the strength of the LoRas to scale abilities depending on area of work

the man is a slicer: the slicer slices face's slices into further slices: the other man is the puller. The puller pulls the slices apart into planar sections dividing the entire image, and the face becomes a mask of incomprehension slit into an array of emigmatic glowing visions, both paranoiac and wildly schizoid. He has a haunting, bone aching beauty that is impossible to ignore, androgeny.

Oil painting on canvas, 1940s masterwork titled My head is slicing into enigmatic sections, and my primary symptom is that I have no face, but I must see. The subject of the painting is a businessman, a psychopathic expression of American disdain, their face expressively pained intermingled with notes of confusion, and despite the psychopathic business suit dressing, one can't help but feel empathy towards this central character, the mask taking on a reflection of our own internal unrecognized pain. Internationally recognized oil painting by The Master, sold at auction for 23 million USD.

My head is slicing into enigmatic sections with perfect teeth, and my primary symptom is that I have no face, but I must see, internationally recognized oil painting by the master, sold at auction for 23 million USD. Expressive powerfully pained expression intermingled with notes of confusion.

woman, standing, looking at viewer, mountains, wearing HUD_shmrck, made of delicate shamrock leaves intricately woven together, clean face, creating a whimsical and ethereal look, highly detailed. Masterpiece, HD, 3D

woman, standing, looking at viewer, mountains, wearing HUD_shmrck, made of delicate shamrock leaves intricately woven together, clean face, creating a whimsical and ethereal look, highly detailed. Masterpiece, HD, 3D

A hollow body, emerging from the neck a soul of light, the one that replaces what was once the man inside the suit and tie: and it hasn't. Nothing can replace it, yet the corporate logos, the Pepsi, the Coke, the Nintendos and so on speak through its neck and somewhere in the static, like an enigmatic face pressed against a saran wrap wall, it screams. And you see it there, late at night in the mirror: he is alive in there in the screaming thing that wakes into television and presses into its pillow like death like death like all that has wept and long gone down into the grave of night, the one that never sleeps now, and besides, the light stays on in the daytime too, James Turrell Style page

A hollow body, emerging from the neck a soul of light, the one that replaces what was once the man inside the suit and tie: and it hasn't. Nothing can replace it, yet the corporate logos, the Pepsi, the Coke, the Nintendos and so on speak through its neck and somewhere in the static, like an enigmatic face pressed against a saran wrap wall, it screams. And you see it there, late at night in the mirror: he is alive in there in the screaming thing that wakes into television and presses into its pillow like death like death like all that has wept and long gone down into the grave of night, the one that never sleeps now, and besides, the light stays on in the daytime too, James Turrell Style page

A hollow body, emerging from the neck a soul of light, the one that replaces what was once the man inside the suit and tie: and it hasn't. Nothing can replace it, yet the corporate logos, the Pepsi, the Coke, the Nintendos and so on speak through its neck and somewhere in the static, like an enigmatic face pressed against a saran wrap wall, it screams. And you see it there, late at night in the mirror: he is alive in there in the screaming thing that wakes into television and presses into its pillow like death like death like all that has wept and long gone down into the grave of night, the one that never sleeps now, and besides, the light stays on in the daytime too, James Turrell Style page

A hollow body, emerging from the neck a soul of light, the one that replaces what was once the man inside the suit and tie: and it hasn't. Nothing can replace it, yet the corporate logos, the Pepsi, the Coke, the Nintendos and so on speak through its neck and somewhere in the static, like an enigmatic face pressed against a saran wrap wall, it screams. And you see it there, late at night in the mirror: he is alive in there in the screaming thing that wakes into television and presses into its pillow like death like death like all that has wept and long gone down into the grave of night, the one that never sleeps now, and besides, the light stays on in the daytime too, James Turrell Style page

A hollow body, emerging from the neck a soul of light, the one that replaces what was once the man inside the suit and tie: and it hasn't. Nothing can replace it, yet the corporate logos, the Pepsi, the Coke, the Nintendos and so on speak through its neck and somewhere in the static, like an enigmatic face pressed against a saran wrap wall, it screams. And you see it there, late at night in the mirror: he is alive in there in the screaming thing that wakes into television and presses into its pillow like death like death like all that has wept and long gone down into the grave of night, the one that never sleeps now, and besides, the light stays on in the daytime too, James Turrell Style page

A hollow body, emerging from the neck a soul of light, the one that replaces what was once the man inside the suit and tie: and it hasn't. Nothing can replace it, yet the corporate logos, the Pepsi, the Coke, the Nintendos and so on speak through its neck and somewhere in the static, like an enigmatic face pressed against a saran wrap wall, it screams. And you see it there, late at night in the mirror: he is alive in there in the screaming thing that wakes into television and presses into its pillow like death like death like all that has wept and long gone down into the grave of night, the one that never sleeps now, and besides, the light stays on in the daytime too, James Turrell Style page

A hollow body, emerging from the neck a soul of light, the one that replaces what was once the man inside the suit and tie: and it hasn't. Nothing can replace it, yet the corporate logos, the Pepsi, the Coke, the Nintendos and so on speak through its neck and somewhere in the static, like an enigmatic face pressed against a saran wrap wall, it screams. And you see it there, late at night in the mirror: he is alive in there in the screaming thing that wakes into television and presses into its pillow like fruiting death like all that has wept and long gone down into the grave of night, the one that never sleeps now, and besides, the light stays on in the daytime too, James Turrell Style page, the moon high in the sky

A hollow body, emerging from the neck a soul of light, the one that replaces what was once the man inside the suit and tie: and it hasn't. Nothing can replace it, yet the corporate logos, the Pepsi, the Coke, the Nintendos and so on speak through its neck and somewhere in the static, like an enigmatic face pressed against a saran wrap wall, it screams. And you see it there, late at night in the mirror: he is alive in there in the screaming thing that wakes into television and presses into its pillow like fruiting death like all that has wept and long gone down into the grave of night, the one that never sleeps now, and besides, the light stays on in the daytime too, James Turrell Style page, Blade Runner 2049

A hollow body, emerging from the neck a soul of light, the one that replaces what was once the man inside the suit and tie: and it hasn't. Nothing can replace it, yet the corporate logos, the Pepsi, the Coke, the Nintendos and so on speak through its neck and somewhere in the static, like an enigmatic face pressed against a saran wrap wall, it screams. And you see it there, late at night in the mirror: he is alive in there in the screaming thing that wakes into television and presses into its pillow like fruiting death like all that has wept and long gone down into the grave of night, the one that never sleeps now, and besides, the light stays on in the daytime too, James Turrell Style page, Blade Runner 2049

the moving in the early dawn behind the shack where you whispered secrets where they pattered in the autumn rains like years in the crack where the dark water loomed and the love still rises behind the slumber where the heart beats in its briefcase, set down with the suit jacket and high waisted slacks on the floorboards the movement of the strings behind the doors where they pattered through their lives like lazy birds who didn't know how short and quick a life is and the love still rises and the sunlight sings around the curtains of your flimsy body at once in the early dawn window there is rain in the well where the dark water loomed there are birds in the traffic of the sky on the tapestry of noon James Turrell Style page

He lifts his head from his head, his eyes on strands of eyes, and in the glitch light handmade and homespun, he sees the visions of pasts lost in enigmatic phantoms and faces of light

He lifts his head from his head, his eyes on strands of eyes, and in the glitch light handmade and homespun, he sees the visions of pasts lost in enigmatic phantoms and faces of light

A hollow body, emerging from the neck a soul of light, the one that replaces what was once the man inside the suit and tie: and it hasn't. Nothing can replace it, yet the corporate logos, the Pepsi, the Coke, the Nintendos and so on speak through its neck and somewhere in the static, like an enigmatic face pressed against a saran wrap wall, it screams. And you see it there, late at night in the mirror: he is alive in there in the screaming thing that wakes into television and presses into its pillow like death like death like all that has wept and long gone down into the grave of night, the one that never sleeps now, and besides, the light stays on in the daytime too

A hollow body, emerging from the neck a soul of light, the one that replaces what was once the man inside the suit and tie: and it hasn't. Nothing can replace it, yet the corporate logos, the Pepsi, the Coke, the Nintendos and so on speak through its neck and somewhere in the static, like an enigmatic face pressed against a saran wrap wall, it screams. And you see it there, late at night in the mirror: he is alive in there in the screaming thing that wakes into television and presses into its pillow like death like death like all that has wept and long gone down into the grave of night, the one that never sleeps now, and besides, the light stays on in the daytime too

He lifts his head from his head, his eyes on strands of eyes, and in the glitch light handmade and homespun, he sees the visions of pasts lost in enigmatic phantoms and faces of light

He lifts his head from his head, his eyes on strands of eyes, and in the glitch light handmade and homespun, he sees the visions of pasts lost in enigmatic phantoms and faces of light

He lifts his head from his head, his eyes on strands of eyes, and in the glitch light handmade and homespun, he sees the visions of pasts lost in enigmatic phantoms and faces of light

He lifts his head from his head, his eyes on strands of eyes, and in the glitch light handmade and homespun, he sees the visions of pasts lost in enigmatic phantoms and faces of light

He lifts his head from his head, his eyes on strands of eyes, and in the glitch light handmade and homespun, he sees the visions of pasts lost in enigmatic phantoms and faces of light

He lifts his head from his head, his eyes on strands of eyes, and in the glitch light handmade and homespun, he sees the visions of pasts lost in enigmatic phantoms and faces of light

He lifts his head from his head, his eyes on strands of eyes, and in the glitch light handmade and homespun, he sees the visions of pasts lost in enigmatic phantoms and faces of light

He lifts his head from his head, his eyes on strands of eyes, and in the glitch light handmade and homespun, he sees the visions of pasts lost in enigmatic phantoms and faces of light

He lifts his head from his head, his eyes on strands of eyes, and in the glitch light handmade and homespun, he sees the visions of pasts lost in enigmatic phantoms and faces of light

His head has exploded in psychedelic blood into three faces each phantom of the Opera an enigmatic vision, attached to his neck by a long filament of writhing static where his face once was

A man's head splits into planar segments floating over New York city, seeing visions of pasts lost in enigmatic phantoms and faces of light. A schizophrenic ultra-violence of static CRT enigmatic tesseraction and impossible topology.

my head is a CRTV!!

They walk and in hand through GameStop, each face dissolved into the next as if a portal into the 1990s nostalgic dawn, if for but a moment

They walk and in hand through GameStop, three faces each, three phantoms of the Opera, an enigmatic op vision of impossible topology, their heads split into sections of sections floating further apart as space expands irrevocably, attached to his neck by a long filament of writhing static where his face once was

my head is a CRTV!!

They walk and in hand through GameStop, three faces each, three phantoms of the Opera, an enigmatic op vision of impossible topology, their heads split into sections of sections floating further apart as space expands irrevocably, attached to his neck by a long filament of writhing static where his face once was

They walk and in hand through GameStop, three faces each, three phantoms of the Opera, an enigmatic op vision of impossible topology, their heads split into sections of sections floating further apart as space expands irrevocably, attached to his neck by a long filament of writhing static where his face once was

My head is slicing into enigmatic sections, and my primary symptom is that I have no face, but I must see

lost painting by Gustav Klimt during his vibrant cathode ray tube static period. The painting depicts a young girl walking on a pond made of light at the center of a brutalist city, her head refracted by a prism into flowing static.

My head is slicing into enigmatic sections, and my primary symptom is that I have no face, but I must see

fpv, Fist Person View, Dentist looking down to Viewer, mask, crazy glitched head looking down to you, Bright surgery light,

the man is a slicer: the slicer slices face's slices into further slices: the other man is the puller. The puller pulls the slices apart into planar sections dividing the entire image, and the face becomes a mask of incomprehension slit into an array of emigmatic glowing visions, both paranoiac and wildly schizoid

lost painting by Gustav Klimt during his vibrant cathode ray tube static period. The painting depicts a young girl walking on a pond made of light at the center of a brutalist city, her head refracted by a prism into flowing static.

lost painting by Gustav Klimt during his vibrant cathode ray tube static period. The painting depicts a young girl walking on a pond made of light at the center of a brutalist city, her head refracted by a prism into flowing static.

The Mona Lisa, displayed in the warped timelines of an enigmatic glitch spectre as he walks in paranoia through the busy streets of Tel Aviv

A beautiful woman face with flowers and butterflies, smiling, golden hour. Masterpiece, HD, 3D

woman, standing, looking at viewer, mountains, wearing HUD_shmrck, made of delicate shamrock leaves intricately woven together,, creating a whimsical and ethereal look, highly detailed. Masterpiece, HD, 3D

woman, standing, looking at viewer, mountains, wearing HUD_shmrck, made of delicate shamrock leaves intricately woven together, clean face, creating a whimsical and ethereal look, highly detailed. Masterpiece, HD, 3D

woman, standing, looking at viewer, mountains, wearing HUD_shmrck, made of delicate shamrock leaves intricately woven together,, creating a whimsical and ethereal look, highly detailed. Masterpiece, HD, 3D