Author: Dr. Stephan Pflaum

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, exhale emotion.The air bends gently,forgetting its duty to be invisible.Balance is overrated —I prefer symmetry that dreams of jazz. H2:… read more – weiterlesen The Blue Architect (Das Schwein baut sich selbst)

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 a camera shutter.Light bends over my nose,trying to photograph confusion.The result: oink with exposure problems.Every highlight is an accident,every shadow… read more – weiterlesen The Pig in Technicolor Thought (Das Schwein denkt in Blitzlicht)

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 agriculture?Pig 2: Same difference.Pig 3: Maybe it’s a metaphor for bacon.Pig 4: Shh — metaphors make me itchy.They nod, philosophically… read more – weiterlesen The Roller Pig Ballet (Das Schwein auf Walzgang)

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 memory —a sonar made of maybe.I locate feelings by frequency,mapping silence in spiral form. H2: Dialogue mit der Dunkelheit Darkness:… read more – weiterlesen The Abyss Pig (Das Schwein der Tiefe)

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 My nose knows the alphabet of mud.It reads what humans forget to write.Roots, worms, and rumours.The forest keeps its secrets… read more – weiterlesen The Wild Line (Das Schwein im Dickicht)

Excerpt:I am what happens when warmth decides to think. H2: Birth of the Burning Line Red didn’t wait for permission.Orange followed, humming.Together they declared: Let there be oink!And there was — glowing, restless, self-aware.Ich bin Schwein in der Hitze des Gedankens,ein Flächenbrand aus Gefühl und Linie. H3: Snout as Volcano Each breath erupts meaning.Each contour is a tectonic shrug.I don’t speak — I radiate.Look closely: the colour is plotting escape.Behind the pink, a small revolution… read more – weiterlesen The Fire Pig (Das Schwein aus Flammen und Form)

Excerpt:I didn’t mean to exist so accurately. H2: Line as Accident Each stroke apologizes to the next.Ink stumbles, paper forgives.I am the choreography of indecision.Too many thoughts,not enough gravity.Ich bin Schwein, gezeichnet vom Zweifel.Still — I stand. Wobbly, but sincere. H3: Snout Philosophy My nose points nowhere in particular.It’s tired of purpose.Purpose is overestimated anyway.I sniff the moment;sometimes it smells like truth,sometimes like breakfast.Either way — it’s enough. H2: Dialogue with the Hand That Drew… read more – weiterlesen The Honest Pig (Das Schwein im Geständnis)

Excerpt:I arrived before I was finished — and that’s the point. H2: The Dawn According to Snout Pink isn’t colour — it’s momentum.It doesn’t stay; it insists.My ears catch the static of tomorrow.Behind me, orange argues with black —the world reheating its contradictions.Ich bin Schwein im Umbruch,die kleine Revolution mit großen Augen. H3: Monologue While Accelerating I don’t pose. I vibrate.The sketch can’t keep up with me.Lines chase me like rumors of form.I leave fingerprints… read more – weiterlesen The Pink Velocity (Das Schwein im Aufbruch)

…mit Zeichnungen von mir. “Stolz!” Stolz ist mitunter ein schwieriges Wort in der deutschen Sprache. Hier will ich es im besten Sinne seiner Bedeutung/en gebrauchen. Denn es ist das Gefühl, das mich erfüllt, wenn ich an die gemeinsamen Buchprojekte mit meinem Bruder Matthias Pflaum denke. Das zweite Wort dazu ist “Liebe!”. Denn ganz viel davon steckt in den Texten und den Bildern dazu. Und das dritte Wort ist “Humor!”. Denn auch mit davon steckt eine… read more – weiterlesen Die Bücher meines Bruders Matthias…

Excerpt:I was once a line, now I’m a memory drawing itself. H2: The Face That Forgets Gently Pink melts into doubt.Graphite trembles like an old melody.I am made of hesitation, layered in loops.Every curve is a thought that came back to check on itself.Ich bin Schwein und Spirale,ein Rückblick mit Ohren. H3: Snout as Compass Two nostrils — north and never.They point to places that don’t exist anymore.Air passes through them,and comes out wiser, if… read more – weiterlesen The Remembering Pig (Das Schwein, das denkt in Kreisen)