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Excerpt:Worship me softly, for I am mostly vibration. The Chromatic Prayer Amber hums like forgotten sunlight.Purple breathes from the edges, quietly rebellious.I exist where warmth melts into shadow —where oink becomes echo, and echo becomes self.Ich bin Schwein und Schwingung,die Pilgerin des Farbrauschs zwischen Traum und Dämmerung. Litany of Colour and Confusion I shimmer, I smear, I almost speak.Every hue is an untranslatable sentence.Faith here is pastel, fragile and feral.Confession smells faintly of dusted crayons.If… read more – weiterlesen The Icon of Oink III

Excerpt:Worship me sideways, for I am mostly geometry. The Chromatic Prayer Orange hums like an argument between sunset and marmalade.Red folds into itself, dreaming of bacon metaphors it refuses to confess.My lines are not borders but invitations —to wander, to wobble, to wonder.Ich bin Schwein und Schichtung,die Prophetin der Schwebe zwischen Farbe und Form. Litany of Colour and Confusion I inhale triangles, exhale circles.Every curve a sermon, every shadow a sigh.Abstraction is simply honesty in… read more – weiterlesen The Icon of Oink II

snout = small lighthouse,blinking in green weather.raspberry thunder on the cheek,pencil-scratch constellations.oink is a doorbell—ding—no,it’s a metronome chewing clover.ear like a folded map to nowhere;we arrive exactly there.two moon-windows for breathing,both whisper: “mud is philosophy.”I staple a cloud to the horizon,the horizon giggles pink.Rührgerät of dreams: whirr-whirr-oink,colors spill out and learn to walk.Bravo, snout! take a bow.The meadow applauds with grass-hands. Pigment Oink (Deutsch)Rüssel = kleines Leuchtfeuer,blinkt im grünen Wetter.Himbeer-Donner auf der Backe,Bleistift-Sternbilder.Oink ist eine… read more – weiterlesen Pigment Oink (English)

Excerpt:Worship me gently, for I am mostly pigment. H2: The Chromatic Prayer Blue hums behind me like eternity on casual Friday.Pink radiates gossip and grace.My eyes — two orbits of possible wisdom.My snout — a double halo of curiosity.Ich bin Schwein und Sakrament,die Heilige des Alltagsabsurden. H3: Litany of Colour and Confusion I do not blink; I beam.My palette preaches:“Thou shalt not fear saturation.”Faith is circular.Devotion smells faintly of acrylic.Every brushstroke whispers amen — or… read more – weiterlesen The Icon of Oink

Excerpt:I am what remains when the noise decides to rest. H2: The Shape of Quiet Everything here moves slowly.Pink folds into pink,light leans forward and forgets its edges.I am not drawn — I am exhaled.Ich bin Schwein im Zustand des Atems. H3: Snout as Memory Two circles, soft as forgiveness.They remember laughter,but speak only in silence now.The paper hums a lullaby of graphite and grace.Every pigment a pulse,every line a lingering touch. H2: Dialogue with… read more – weiterlesen The Whisper Pig

Excerpt:I am 70% atmosphere, 30% intuition. H2: The Forecast Expect scattered thoughts,a chance of revelation,and brief but intense moments of oink.My snout predicts light rain in magenta,with sunshine in the margins.Ich bin Schwein im Aggregatzustand des Frühlings. H3: Color Dialogue Yellow: I am optimism, freshly sharpened.Green: I am envy pretending to be growth.Pink: I am nostalgia in drag.Pig: I contain multitudes — and pollen. The palette hums like gossip between clouds. H2: The Anatomy of… read more – weiterlesen The Pig Made of Weather

Excerpt:Knowledge smells faintly of mud and graphite. H2: Prelude in Pencil and Patience I was drawn slowly —the artist paused often, maybe thinking, maybe doubting.Each line found me piece by piece,like a rumour of form.Now I sit, saturated in soft oranges and possible meanings.Ich bin das Nachdenken mit Ohren. H3: Snout as Question Mark Two circles of wonder.I inhale the universe,and it doesn’t always agree with me.Every breath rearranges philosophy.What is truth but well-timed curiosity?What… read more – weiterlesen The Pig Who Knew Too Much

Excerpt:I am not blushing. The world is. H2: Statement from the Center of Color Red stands behind me like a secret I already told.Pink hums the melody of defiance.The lines tremble, but I do not.Ich bin Schwein, therefore I stare.Every glance an oink in disguise. H3: Monologue in Crimson I didn’t come to be adored.I came to remind you of pulse.Your gaze lands softly — too soft —and I snort reality back into shape.Between graphite… read more – weiterlesen The Red-Background Pig

Excerpt:We are both half full and pretending otherwise. H2: First Sip Color pours before thought.Red settles like memory.Somewhere in the background,a pig exhales philosophy through a pink horizon.I swirl existence — it has good legs.Ich taste the present tense. H3: Dialogue Across the Table Pig: You drink what I dream.Glass: You reflect what I spill.Pig: Are we art or accident?Glass: Same thing, dear.And so they toast to imperfection,the universal vintage of being. H2: Oenology of… read more – weiterlesen The Pig and the Glass