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 whispers.

H2: Dialogue with Flame

Flame: You are too alive.
Pig: You are too temporary.
Flame: We share a glow.
Pig: We share a risk.
Together we invent illumination,
a collaboration between danger and delight.

H3: Abschlussoink – The Radiant Manifesto

Let no outline remain cold.
Let every hue hum.
Let the viewer sweat with wonder.
Dada says nonsense —
but I burn in full sentences.
The paper almost remembers my temperature.
And that, darling, is art.