The second drawing in the A Guy From Berlin series offers a brutal elegance, stripped down to the essential shapes and sheen of flesh. The body is arched, the hole is open, and the viewer is placed in a position of control—an invitation and a command all at once.

This is not a portrait; it is a performance. The man remains faceless, identity flattened into position and posture. Like so many sex pics exchanged in quiet DMs and encrypted apps, this image speaks the unspoken language of kink: readiness, discipline, submission.

“Pig” here is not insult but honorific—code for availability, intensity, surrender. In the culture of fisting, to be called a pig is to be recognized for one’s capacity to feel, to endure, to connect. The drawing reflects that ethos: clinical but not cold, exposing yet reverent, poised between documentation and desire.

This is Berlin not as a city, but as an attitude. Not geography, but geometry. The lines of the back. The curve of the thigh. The silence of the face.