Florence, 1503. Lisa had finally taken a selfie she liked.
The lighting was perfect. Her hair behaved. And her smile said, “I know something you don’t,” rather than, “I’ve been sitting in this chair for six hours.”
She checked the photo.
“Too good for the camera roll,” she decided. “Not quite fancy enough for the wall.”
So she walked over to her wooden desk, woke up her suspiciously modern computer, and uploaded the selfie to an AI image editor.
Her prompt:
“Turn my selfie into a Renaissance oil portrait. Show my hands folded in my lap, keep my mysterious smile, and add a dreamy Tuscan landscape.”