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 Zweifel.

Dialectic in Pastel

Darkness: I define you.
Light: I interrupt you.
Pig: I reconcile you, clumsily.
All truths are soft-edged when felt through fur.
My contours shift, yet I remain argument-shaped.

Meditation at the Edge of Form

One eye studies the absurd; the other forgives it.
My snout, that stubborn philosopher,
insists that air is a kind of thought.
Even the background hesitates—
a dusk made of hesitation itself.

Final Aphorism (for Those Who Still Think)

I snuffle, therefore I am.
Cogito oink sum.
DADA nods approvingly,
then forgets why.
The rest is illumination—
soft, pink, and slightly perplexed.