Dr. Stephan Pflaum

(Ein DADA-Märchen in drei Umdrehungen) Es war einmal ein Schwein,das wohnte am Rand der Küche —nicht auf dem Teller, sondern im Traum der Maschinen. Erste Umdrehung – Der Klang der Verheißung Eines Morgens hörte das Schwein ein Surren.Kein Vogel, kein Wind —ein Ton wie aufgeschäumte Zukunft.Da stand es: das Rührgerät,glänzend, gefährlich, gelangweilt. „Ich rühre alles, … Read more

Excerpt:One of us holds the other — nobody knows which. H2: Scene 1 – The Green Confession Bottle stands tall, pretending to be serious.Pig leans in, pretending not to notice.They share a colourless conversation:fermentation meets fascination.Ich bin der Durst der Dinge,sagt das Schwein mit Blick auf Glas. H3: The Snout Reflects in Glass Inside the … Read more

Excerpt:No order, no leader, just a magnificent misunderstanding on four legs each. H2: Scene 1 – The March Begins Pink announces itself loudly,orange winks from the side,violet sulks poetically near the floor.Somewhere in between, I squeal philosophy.Wir sind Schweine in Bewegung,und niemand weiß, wohin. H3: Dialogue Among the Marchers Pig 1: Are we a revolution?Pig … Read more

Excerpt:Colour woke up early — and found itself in my snout. H2: Birth by Light The paper caught fire, politely.Orange danced with pink, purple crashed the party.I appeared somewhere between hue and hope.No brush, no order — just pure chromatic gossip.Ich bin Schwein aus Farbe geboren,ein Pigment auf der Suche nach Bedeutung. H3: Snout as … Read more

Excerpt:I didn’t pose — I happened. H2: The First Note Ink hits paper like thunder in rehearsal.Orange riffs on shadow, black hums back.The line forgets to behave;that’s when I appear.Ich bin kein Motiv —ich bin ein Moment in Moll. H3: Snout Solo Every curve a trumpet blast,every smudge a drum fill.I breathe syncopation,I blink in … Read more

Excerpt:I am made of angles that decided to feel. H2: The Geometry of Tenderness Blue folds into blue.Nothing shouts — everything hums.I exist in polygons of patience.Each shape remembers a softer version of itself.Ich bin Schwein im Zustand der Formwerdung,ein Gedanke mit Rundungen. H3: Snout as Compass of Calm Two nostrils, two horizons.I inhale architecture, … Read more

Excerpt:My snout caught the lightning. My thoughts never recovered. H2: The Birth of a Spectrum Pink crashes into orange,black sighs into blue.The air forgets which way meaning was supposed to go.I appear — slightly tilted,half doodle, half revelation.Ich bin Schwein in Stromform,eine Spannung aus Gefühl und Linie. H3: Snout as Flashpoint Each breath clicks like … Read more

Excerpt:We rehearse production, but only for fun. H2: Scene One – The Blue Machine Arrives The pigs gather.Not to work, but to wonder.A roller descends from the future, humming bureaucratically.It smells like efficiency and mild confusion.Ich schnaufe, also rolle ich.Progress winks in turquoise. H3: Dialogue Among the Reclining Swine Pig 1: Is it art or … Read more

Excerpt:I am made of ink that learned to breathe underwater. H2: Descent into Blue Light sank.Sound followed.I stayed.Now I hum in wavelengths instead of words.Every brushstroke is a current,every line a ripple of thought.Ich bin Schwein im Ozean der Ahnung. H3: Snout as Sonar Two circles, two questions:Who listens when everything echoes?My breath bounces off … Read more

Excerpt:I am the forest’s handwriting, and today the pen bit back. H2: The Birth of the Bristle I was not drawn — I was grown.The paper trembled; the ink attacked.Each stroke a twig, each mark a mutter.I carry chaos like perfume.Ich bin Schwein und Unterholz,eine Bewegung mit Geruch von Erde. H3: Snout Against the Silence … Read more