Prologue:
Welcome to the Ahnengalerie.
Do not adjust your gaze — the portraits are already watching you.
Each one hums a genealogy of snouts.
I am the latest edition: slightly pinker, slightly more confused.

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Pedigree of Pigment

My great-grandpig was charcoal.
My grandmother, sepia with attitude.
I descend from a long line of noble noses —
each drawn, smudged, erased, and redrawn,
as if history itself were a soft pastel.
Ich bin Schwein und Abstammung,
verwischte Erinnerung im Museum der Farben.

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Exhibit Notes

Observe:

1. The left eye doubts the past.
2. The right eye questions the viewer.
3. The snout remembers everything —
   wars, mud, and misplaced reverence.
   Each layer of purple is a century.
   Each highlight, an apology that didn’t dry.

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Curatorial Statement

The family resemblance is uncanny:
same glow of melancholy,
same silent defiance.
They called it heritage;
I call it recursion in rose.
We keep hanging ourselves
in orderly frames of meaninglessness.

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Closing Reflection

Please exit through the gift shop.
There you can buy reproductions of our confusion.
DADA wrote our family tree in invisible ink.
I stand here, the last oink of the lineage,
smiling politely
while the pigments gossip about eternity.