Two Seasons, One Tear
Two photographic worlds torn apart down the middle and stitched back together by a single word written across the tear. Seven fields.
Two runs of the same template. An empty workshop torn from a full one beside a frozen quay torn from a working one — both times the same place at two moments, and both times one short word split across the seam holding the halves together.
Generated from this template with the fields shown above — Begin runs across the seam with Be on the cold side and gin on the warm, the stroke crossing the torn fibre unbroken, and nothing else touches the tear. The relatedness rule is doing as much work as the stitch: the same hall carries through the tear, its concrete beams and its bench line continuing across the seam, one side empty and blue and the other full and amber. The reference's own baseline put its script word almost entirely on one scene with a letter grazing the join, and paired two unrelated landscapes — a river and a rape field — which no amount of stitching brings back together. Run-to-run quirks: the tear's path redraws each time, the word divides at a different letter on each run, and the curl occasionally falls on the wrong side of the seam. Both runs were regenerated once — the first pair set the brush title and the stamp in Chinese, because a field asking for a brush title invites the script that idiom usually carries. The fix was in the example fields, which now name the exact words wanted; the template sets no language rule, and a brush title in any script is a legitimate thing to ask it for. One flaw survives in the second run: a letter in the small vertical line down the left edge is set reversed, which is what tiny rotated type does to a model.
Generated for this library
Input
Occasion Vibary's turn from drafting to building
Cool an empty studio at first light, drafting paper on a
long bench, cold light through high windows
Warm the same studio weeks later, every bench taken, warm
lamplight, printed sheets pinned along the wall
Tear top to bottom, off centre, leaning right, curling
toward the warm side
Stitch Begin, amber script, half on each side
Title Open Build / one prompt, then the afternoon
Date 2026 07.18 · B/U/I/L/D W/E/E/K
Returned 1 poster · 2:3 · torn edge, two temperatures
tear runs the full height a little right of centre, its
fibres visible, the paper curling toward the warm half
and casting a hairline shadow onto it
cool the empty studio fills the left, blue-grey, one bench,
paper, no people
warm the same room fills the right, amber, benches taken,
sheets on the wall - the same window in both
stitch Begin written across the seam in amber script, Be on
the cool side and gin on the warm, the stroke crossing
the torn fibre without breaking
type the brush title high on the cool side with its stamp
beneath, the couplet vertical along the left edge, the
date low right, the spaced footer along the baseYou fill in 7 fields — the braced lines at the top. Everything below them is fixed.
- 1The occasion
- 2The cool side
- 3The warm side
- 4The tear
- 5The stitch word
- 6The title and the couplet
- 7The date and the footer
Two Seasons, One Tear
Produce ONE image: two photographic scenes divided by a torn paper edge and rejoined by one written word. Follow every line below. Replace only the FIELDS block; everything after it is fixed.
First — do you have the fields?
If any field below still has braces around it, stop and ask. Put all the questions in one short message, and show the example under each one so they can see the shape of a useful answer. Wait for the replies, then draw. Never fill a brace yourself: a value you invented is a value nobody asked for, and it will look exactly as considered as the ones they did give you.
Ask in whatever language they are writing to you in. Translate the questions and the examples; do not make someone read English to tell you what they want.
The examples are only examples. If someone answers a question, use their answer; never fall back to the example because you prefer it.
If the fields are already filled in, ignore this and carry on.
Fields — replace these seven lines only
- The occasion: {what this marks} e.g. Vibary's turn from drafting season to building season
- The cool side: {a scene, with its light} e.g. an empty studio at first light, drafting paper laid across a long bench, cold blue-grey light through high windows, one lamp not yet on
- The warm side: {a scene, with its light} e.g. the same studio at the same hour weeks later, every bench occupied, warm lamplight, printed sheets pinned across the far wall
- The tear: {where it runs, and which way the paper curls} e.g. running top to bottom slightly off centre, leaning right, fibrous with the paper curling toward the warm side
- The stitch word: {one short word, and its colour} e.g. Begin, in a flowing amber script, half its letters on each side of the tear
- The title and the couplet: {a brush title, and a vertical line} e.g. Open Build, brush script on the cool side / one prompt, then the rest of the afternoon, set vertically
- The date and the footer: {a date, and a spaced footer line} e.g. 2026 07.18 · B/U/I/L/D / W/E/E/K
The stitch law
A tear divides. Something has to put the page back together, and in this style that job belongs to one word written across the seam.
Roughly half the word's letters sit on each side. The stroke crosses the torn fibre without breaking, so the eye reads one continuous line of writing over two different worlds and accepts them as one page.
Every template in this genre asks for a word "spanning the torn edge" and gets a word sitting on one scene with a letter or two grazing the join. That is decoration on a half, not a stitch. The reference's own baseline did exactly this — its script word landed almost entirely on the warm side.
Nothing else crosses the tear. Not the title, not the couplet, not the date. One stitch only, or the seam stops meaning anything.
The relatedness rule
The two scenes must have something in common that survives the tear — the same room, the same window, the same hour, the same view at two seasons. One light direction across both halves.
Two unrelated landscapes tear apart cleanly and no amount of stitching brings them back. The contrast lives in temperature and fullness, not in subject:
- one side cool — blue-grey, empty, early, waiting
- one side warm — amber, occupied, later, arrived
The tear
- Runs the full height, off centre and leaning, never straight down the middle. A centred vertical line reads as a fold and gives both halves equal weight when one should lead.
- Real torn-paper edge: visible fibres, a pale deckle, slight curling on one side, and a hairline shadow where the lifted paper falls across the scene beneath it.
- The paper's own thickness shows along the curl. This is the one place the poster admits it is made of paper.
The two scenes
- Both photographic, high resolution, natural soft light, no illustration and no rendering.
- The cool side sits in blues, greens and greys; the warm side in ambers, yellows and pinks. Neither is desaturated — they are two temperatures, not a colour and a monochrome.
- Seasonal detail is welcome and small: petals on water, birds in the air, sheets on a wall. It should reward a second look without competing with the tear.
The type
Editorial arrangement, and none of it crosses the seam:
- The brush title, large, high on one side, with a small red stamp directly beneath it carrying a single Latin initial.
- The couplet, set vertically along an outer edge, small, in a fine serif.
- The date, low on the opposite side, small and plain.
- The footer, along the base, letters separated by slashes.
All type is white except the stamp and the stitch word.
Never
- ✕ a stitch word sitting mostly on one side
- ✕ any other element crossing the tear
- ✕ a tear down the exact centre, or a clean-cut edge with no fibre
- ✕ two scenes with nothing in common, or lit from different directions
- ✕ illustration, painting or 3D rendering in either half
- ✕ a second stamp, a fifth text block, a logo
The result
A page that was torn and then written across: two temperatures of one place, a seam you can see the fibres of, and a single word holding both halves in one hand.
The whole template, in one piece. The steps below are the entire workflow.
How to use it
- Copy the whole template with the button above.
- Replace the seven FIELDS lines. Write the two scenes as one place at two moments, or one moment in two temperatures — relatedness is what the stitch has to work with.
- Paste it into any image-capable agent or model, in one message. One run returns the poster.
- Check the stitch by counting letters: roughly half on each side. A word sitting almost entirely on one scene has decorated it instead of joining them.
What you swap
- The occasion
- Vibary's turn from drafting season to building season
- The cool side
- an empty studio at first light, drafting paper laid across a long bench, cold blue-grey light through high windows, one lamp not yet on
- The warm side
- the same studio at the same hour weeks later, every bench occupied, warm lamplight, printed sheets pinned across the far wall
- The tear
- running top to bottom slightly off centre, leaning right, fibrous with the paper curling toward the warm side
- The stitch word
- Begin, in a flowing amber script, half its letters on each side of the tear
- The title and the couplet
- Open Build, brush script on the cool side / one prompt, then the rest of the afternoon, set vertically
- The date and the footer
- 2026 07.18 · B/U/I/L/D / W/E/E/K
Before it runs
- Two scenes that could be the same place or the same hour. Two unrelated landscapes tear apart cleanly and never come back together.
- One word short enough to be split. Four to six letters; anything longer either shrinks to nothing or covers the tear entirely.
- A tear that leans. A vertical line down the exact centre reads as a fold, not a tear, and gives the two halves equal weight when one should lead.
When to reach for it
For a solar term, a season change, a before-and-after, a two-sided anniversary. The torn edge is easy; what these posters never manage is making the two halves belong to one page rather than sitting side by side in silence.
What changes
- One page split by a real torn edge — fibrous, slightly curled, with the paper's own thickness visible along it.
- Two photographic scenes that differ in temperature but share one light direction and one hour, so they read as one moment seen twice.
- A single script word written across the tear with roughly half its letters on each side, which is the stitch that makes the halves one page.
- Editorial typesetting that respects the seam: title on one side, couplet on the other, and nothing straddling the edge except the stitch word.
- One red stamp, one date, one footer — the only marks that touch neither scene.
Pairs with
- Built by Tiny HandsA miniature-scale poster where small figures are assembling the thing the poster is about — with one declared height rule so every object stays the same size as itself. Seven fields.
- Drawn Into the PhotographA real photograph with one glowing hand-drawn figure living inside it — standing on a real surface, touching a real object, and placed in the quietest part of the frame. Six fields.
- Five Pins, One StreetA wide daylight photograph of a real place with five small pins on it, each naming something actually visible in the frame rather than floating over it. Seven fields.