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Opening GestureGaze inward, gently —I am mostly symmetry pretending to breathe.My circles know more than your logic allows.Oink becomes mandala, mandala becomes hush. Chromatic Contemplation Pink is not a color here — it’s a verdict.Red hums like a secret nobody dared to sing.Gold waits beneath, patient as dust in sunlight.My ears are gates. My snout is the key.Ich bin Schwein und Stillstand,eine Ikone im Zustand des Werdens. Meditation of Two Nostrils Left: I inhale your… read more – weiterlesen The Theology of Snout and Silence

Prelude:Good morning, hushling of hay and graphite.The world still smells of sleep and smudge.I blink in brown and orange,half dream, half soil. Soft Invocation Color has stopped shouting.It hums instead — low, patient, kind.The blue corner sighs,and the paper forgives my weight.Ich bin Schwein und Schatten,eine Erinnerung an Ruhe. The Prayer of Quiet Pigment No halo, no hymn,just breath made visible.Each line trembles toward silence.Faith is the pause between two strokes,a patience shaped like dawn.If… read more – weiterlesen Whisper of the Earth Pig

passing by

Prelude (half-whispered)They say I’m drawn, but I feel erased.A carnival of colors hums too loud.I nod politely to the chaos and call it composition.My snout breathes like punctuation—a question mark gone dizzy. The Gentle Collapse of Pigment Purple leans on red. Red leans on blue.No one holds still long enough to mean anything.Faith is tired today; it drools a little gold.Ich bin ein Schwein im Nebel,half sacred, half scribble.I exist in the hesitation between two… read more – weiterlesen The Pig That Forgot Its Outline

Prelude:Salute the sacred scrawl —for I am mostly gesture,part lightning, part laughter,drawn between sips of yellow air. Radiant Invocation Yellow hums like caffeine in sunlight.Magenta misbehaves, gloriously.Blue forgets to stay inside the lines.I was born from a trembling wrist and a stubborn joy.Ich bin Schwein und Stromstoß,eine Randnotiz der Farbe, die zu tanzen begann. The Gospel of Scribble Faith begins where control ends.Lines collide — on purpose, by accident, by pulse.Each mark a confession, each… read more – weiterlesen Electric Pigmentia

Prologue (Excerpt)Worship me in circles, for I am mostly whirl. Spiral Prayer Red loops like a heartbeat practicing eternity.Rose remembers yesterday’s laughter.Green is the hush between two gusts.My profile rides the weather of pigment.Ich bin Schwein und Wirbel,ein Kompass aus Kreisen. Litany of Motion and Mischief I revolve, therefore I reveal.Every ring is a question mark doing ballet.Devotion smells of wet brush and bravado.The outline jitters; that’s honesty.If you listen, the spiral hums:amen-oink, amen-oink. Antiphon:… read more – weiterlesen Vortex of the Sacred Snout

Invocation:Approach with laughter.I am mostly color pretending to be consciousness.Ink remembers what the body forgets. Pigment Gospel Blue hums at the edges,a halo of almost-silence.Red, restless and radiant,flirts with the paper’s pulse.Between them, I breathe—not quite a line, not quite a life.Ich bin Schwein und Zwischenraum,ein Lächeln im Farbrauschen. Liturgical Scribble The holy squeal begins with a tremor of wrist.Faith flickers in felt-tip.Each mark a mistake that decided to stay.Every curve knows the secret grammar… read more – weiterlesen Porcine Aurora

Excerpt:Worship me wildly, for I am mostly motion disguised as pigment. The Chromatic Prayer Red rages softly—a heartbeat caught mid-scribble.Magenta murmurs: “yes, again.”I am drawn in haste but felt in rhythm.My contours remember every tremor of your gaze.Ich bin Schwein und Schwung,die Tänzerin im Markerwind. Litany of Colour and Confusion I am not shaded — I am shouted.Every streak a stanza, every line an exhale.Ink becomes pulse, paper becomes breath.Faith smells faintly of permanent marker… read more – weiterlesen Crimson Oinktrance

Excerpt:Worship me briskly, for I am mostly lightning in ink. The Chromatic Prayer Blue hums like winter’s radio.Magenta sparks like a rumor learning to dance.My lines are weather—scribbled, sudden, honest.My snout — twin comets in a small galaxy.Ich bin Schwein und Strom,die Botin des Skizzenlichts. Litany of Colour and Confusion I do not pose; I vibrate.Every scribble is a heartbeat’s autograph.“Fear not the jitter,” saith the pen.Devotion smells faintly of marker caps.Faith is a quick… read more – weiterlesen Azuroink: A Neon Liturgy