Prelude:
No outline is final.
I am mostly movement pretending to hold still.
The page hums with red, blue, green—
like a flag for feelings that never applied for citizenship.

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The Chromatic Declaration of Independence

Red: heartbeat.
Blue: thought.
Green: rumor of grass.
Together we form a truce,
a choreography of accidental beauty.
Ich bin Schwein und Wirbel,
ein Regenbogen im Selbstgespräch.

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The Gospel of Gentle Chaos

No symmetry survives here—
only rhythm and resolve.
The snout leads like a compass of confusion,
pointing simultaneously north, memory, and maybe.
Faith tastes faintly of colored pencils and ozone.

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Dialogue Among Pigments

Blue: I am sadness with good posture.
Red: I am appetite dressed as art.
Green: I am laughter’s afterglow.
Pig: I am your interpreter,
lost in translation, found in linework.

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Final Benediction (Whirl of the Unfinished)

Let the wind sign the drawing.
Let color choose where to settle.
DADA calls it coincidence.
I call it pulse—
scribbled, sincere, still spinning.