Pigture

Prologue:Gather gently.I am mostly arrangement—a composition of snouts,a floral accident in graphite.No roses today, only relatives. Botanical DADA Each pig blooms in its own confusion.Petals shaped like ears,stems disguised as laughter.We call it Schweinestrauß,because taxonomy gave up at the first oink.Ich bin Schwein und Pflanze zugleich,ein Duft von Chaos mit landwirtschaftlicher Herkunft. Field Notes of … Read more

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. 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. The Gospel of … Read more

Prologue:Welcome to my radiant confusion.I am mostly geometry pretending to giggle.Color has opinions today,and all of them are pink. The Theology of Symmetrical Happiness Left eye dreams, right eye doubts.Between them—snout, center of belief.Every circle repeats the same gospel:smile until meaning happens.Ich bin Schwein und Gleichung,die Summe aus Licht und Übermut. Cubist Catechism Rule 1: … Read more

Prelude:Half in shadow, half in blush —I am mostly contradiction,thinking my way through pigment.The ear listens; the snout meditates.The world answers in charcoal. The Ontology of Oink Existence is circular,like breath, or mud, or memory.To be drawn is already to be interpreted.Pink is not vanity; it’s evidence.Ich bin Schwein und Fragezeichen,gedacht in Kreide, geatmet in … Read more

Prelude:Hagebutten tea on the table,memory in the cup.I am mostly magenta meditation with herbal undertones.Steam curls upward like a thought trying to forgive itself. The Devotion of Rosehips Red berries lean across my snout—small suns, stubborn and sincere.They do not bloom for applause.They simply are.Ich bin Schwein und Heißgetränk,ein warmer Widerspruch im Porzellan der Welt. … Read more

Prelude:Good morning, static sky.I am mostly magenta caffeine and mild bewilderment.The night didn’t sleep—it just changed color.Somewhere, a pencil hums a hymn to voltage. Invocation of Neon Flesh Pink burns like confession.Blue holds its breath.Black—always the practical one—frames our chaos.I was drawn, not born.Ich bin Schwein und Stromausfall,ein Zwischenwesen aus Licht und Linie. Chromatic Psalm … Read more

(Ein DADA Poem in Bleistiftatem und Farbhauch) Prelude:Soft, so soft —I am mostly air remembering color.A whisper drawn too close to warmth.My snout is a question mark,still looking for its sentence. The Light Between Lines Yellow hums like late morning.Red drifts by, unbothered.Purple sighs — as always, philosophically.Ich bin Schwein und Erinnerung,ein Nebel aus Haut … Read more

(Ein DADA über Form, Zufall und Schwein) Prelude:I am mostly movement pretending to be memory.The pencil did not plan me—it stumbled,laughed,and decided to stay. Every curve here is an accident of affection.Every line is a question that never quite closed. The Geometry of Oink Orange breathes warmth.Black interrupts politely.Purple just lingers—philosophically.Ich bin Schwein und Spirale,ein … Read more

(Ein DADA in Schwarzgelb und Schweigen) Prelude:I am mostly half-light,a thought between yellow and violet.The air smells of pencil dust and dusk.Everything here whispers —even the color. Lyrik des Übergangs The pink remembers morning,the black rehearses night.Somewhere in between,I stay—soft as hesitation.Ich bin Schwein und Schatten,ein Gedanke, der sich nicht entscheiden will. Philosophy of Pigment … Read more

(Ein DADA in Grau und Atem) Prelude:No color today.Just breath pressed into carbon.I am mostly shadow rehearsing presence.Every line knows the cost of staying visible. Pencil Theology Light touches softly,as if afraid to wake me.Graphite is a slow thinker —it remembers before it decides.Ich bin Schwein und Schweigen,ein Ton zwischen Staub und Dasein. DADA Monologue … Read more