There’s something fascinating about the space between an image and a description. It’s a gap we cross every time we try to explain what we see — a sunset, a photograph, a fleeting expression — to someone who wasn’t there. For me, that space became a kind of playground once I discovered Midjourney.
I still remember the first time I uploaded an image and tried to describe it in words. It was a quiet street in Lisbon, early morning, the walls painted pale pink and blue, light bouncing off the cobblestones. I typed something like “Lisbon street in the morning light”, hit enter, and waited.
The result was… fine. But it didn’t feel right. It lacked the warmth, the quiet, the softness — that faint sense of nostalgia that hung in the air that day.
That’s when I realized: the secret isn’t just to describe what you see, but what you feel. Turning an image into a prompt isn’t translation. It’s interpretation.
Step 1: Slow Down and Really See
We’re used to scrolling through images so fast that we barely see them anymore. When you’re trying to turn one into a prompt, though, you need to stop. Take a breath. Look longer than feels comfortable.
Ask yourself: What catches my eye first? Is it the light, the mood, the color, the story?
I like to start by describing the image to myself, out loud if possible. I don’t worry about being poetic — I just talk it through.
For example, if I’m looking at a photo of a woman standing under a neon sign on a rainy night, I might say:
“Okay, she’s wearing a long coat, it’s raining, the colors are pink and blue. The pavement’s wet, so the light reflects. She looks like she’s waiting for someone.”
Now, that may sound simple, but even speaking it out like that helps me notice things: the atmosphere, the reflections, the tension. Those are the details that make a prompt alive.
Step 2: Break the Image into Layers
Every image tells a story through layers. When I convert one into a prompt, I think in terms of four dimensions:
- Subject: Who or what is in focus? (A person, a landscape, an object?)
- Environment: Where is it happening? (Urban street, foggy forest, dimly lit studio?)
- Lighting: How does the light shape the mood? (Golden hour glow, harsh sunlight, moody shadows?)
- Emotion or Style: What does it feel like? (Dreamlike, lonely, nostalgic, cinematic?)
Let’s take an example. Imagine a photo of a cabin in the woods at dusk, smoke curling from the chimney, the forest just starting to fade into blue.
A basic prompt might be:
Cabin in the woods at sunset.
That’s okay, but it’s missing the atmosphere. Try adding those hidden layers:
Cozy wooden cabin in a misty forest at dusk, soft warm light glowing from the windows, smoke rising gently, calm and cinematic mood.
Now it’s no longer just a description — it’s an image made of words.
Step 3: Capture the Light
Light is often what defines an image’s emotional core. A single change — from golden hour to overcast — can turn hope into melancholy.
When you look at a picture, ask: Where is the light coming from? Is it soft or harsh? Natural or artificial? Does it wrap around the subject or cut sharply through it?
Photographers obsess over light, and with good reason — it’s the soul of every visual. So don’t just say “daytime” or “night.” Try:
- golden sunset light
- soft overcast sky
- neon reflections on wet pavement
- low warm glow from a candle
These tiny details often make or break a prompt.
Step 4: Add Motion or Stillness
Even static images carry a sense of motion — or the absence of it. A person leaning forward, wind brushing through hair, birds mid-flight — these things suggest movement.
Describing that movement gives energy to your prompt. For example:
A young man walking through falling snow, hands in pockets, breath visible in the cold air.
On the other hand, sometimes what draws you in is stillness.
An empty café after rain, soft reflections on the table, the world outside blurred and quiet.
Both tell stories. The key is knowing which one your image is whispering to you.
Step 5: Don’t Forget the Mood
Mood is the heartbeat of any prompt. It’s what turns a technical description into something that resonates.
Mood words can be emotional (“melancholy,” “peaceful,” “hopeful”), cinematic (“gritty,” “dreamlike,” “epic”), or even sensory (“humid,” “crisp,” “misty”).
When I’m unsure how to express a mood, I imagine what kind of music would fit the image. Is it soft piano? Jazz? Distant thunder? That usually helps me find the right adjectives.
Step 6: Think Like a Photographer
If you want your prompts to look professional, think about how the image might have been captured.
Details like camera angles, lenses, and focus can completely change how the AI interprets your description. Try phrases like:
- close-up portrait with shallow depth of field
- wide-angle landscape with dramatic perspective
- macro shot of dewdrops on leaves
- aerial view of coastline at sunrise
You don’t need to know photography in depth — just borrow its vocabulary. These hints give Midjourney context, helping it “see” from your perspective.
Step 7: Embrace Imperfection
One thing I’ve learned after hundreds of image-to-prompt attempts: perfection isn’t the goal. Sometimes, what makes a prompt beautiful is the accident — the unexpected lighting, the strange color balance, the slightly surreal mix of details.
I once tried to describe a photo of an old bookstore in Prague — wooden shelves, warm lights, a ladder leaning against a wall of books. I added too many details at first, and the results looked cluttered. Then I simplified:
Old European bookstore with warm lighting, rows of wooden shelves, cozy vintage mood.
The next image had just the right charm — imperfect, slightly uneven, but alive.
It reminded me that language, like photography, breathes better when there’s space to wander.
Step 8: Iterate and Play
Prompt crafting is a dialogue, not a command. You’ll rarely get it right on the first try — and that’s part of the fun.
Each time you tweak a few words, you learn something new about how visuals and language interact. Sometimes I spend half an hour just experimenting with different adjectives — changing “bright sunlight” to “soft morning haze” or swapping “cinematic” for “documentary.”
And when the image suddenly feels right, it’s almost like the photo and the words have finally found each other.
A Little Story About a Photograph
A few months ago, I came across an old photograph I’d taken years ago — a fisherman standing alone at dawn, casting his net into a lake wrapped in fog. The water was still, except for the quiet ripples spreading outward from the net.
When I tried to describe it, I first wrote:
Fisherman on a lake at sunrise.
It worked — but it didn’t feel like that morning. There was something missing — the silence, the patience, the golden breath of the early light.
So I tried again:
Solitary fisherman casting a net in misty morning light, golden reflection on still water, calm and timeless mood.
This time, it felt closer. The difference was only a few words, but those words carried memory — the weight of that moment that the camera could never fully hold.
That’s the beauty of converting images into prompts. You’re not just describing — you’re remembering.
Final Thoughts
Turning images into Midjourney prompts is both an art and a form of self-reflection. It teaches you to slow down, to observe, to translate sight into language — and feeling into form.
When you do it often enough, you start seeing the world differently. Every photograph, every reflection, every shadow on a wall becomes a potential story waiting to be told.
And if you ever want a little help breaking down images or getting fresh language ideas, tools like Image2Prompts can be a gentle place to start. But remember — no tool can replace the part of you that feels.
Because in the end, the best prompts aren’t born from pixels or data. They come from the quiet moment between seeing and imagining — the place where art begins.