What Happens to a Dream…?

What happens to a dream…?

What happens to a dream delayed? Does it sit in the sun like cheap plastic and fade? Or does it turn rancid, grow mold, and rot away?

What happens to a dream detained? Does it sit there quietly acquiring interest like a predatory loan for thousands of days? Or does it lash out in fear or pain and go insane?

What happens to a dream dismayed? Does it turn from a bright spectrum of colors to a dismal gray? Or does it wait for a seemingly endless supply of hate to go away?

What happens to a dream undefined? Does it drift away and get lost by time? Or does it get chopped up and fed to local swine?

What happens to a dream unrealized? Does it sink to the bottom of the ocean, get encased in ice, and then frozen? Or does it eviscerate in a boreal forest ablazed?

What happens to a dream denied? Does it wait patiently with pride and with wide open eyes? Or does it cry and cry and hope to die?

What happens to a dream unloved? Does it sit there like a puzzle waiting to be solved? Or does it simply not answer the generational call?

What happens to a dream…?


Mindful Mountain Men

These reminded me of him: the role he has been recently fitting into my life; the relationship we share; the love we have for each other; and the strength we offer each other in our vulnerability that we have shown to each other in these last few wondrous winter weeks.

These pieces were painted years ago, on mere simple cardboard, but has recently found such a powerful meaning in my heart and mind.

I loved them so and wanted to mark this new personal life journey with this man, that I had to frame one, so I chose the fourth odd painting. This one is not part of the triptych that makes up the other three so perfectly and is technically mostly a reflection of the subject, which is a mountain. It overlooks the water, abstracted and eviscerated in the sacred waters below, something beautifully metaphoric to the relationship I share with this mate of mine. One of my favorite things about the framed piece is how the structure is loss with in the reflection and is only an simple outline that comes through. This is reminiscent of what the power of the water element of emotion and sacred spirit can do to a sturdy and strong force of an earthly powerful mountain energy.

I hung the framed piece above my bed so I could remember this everyday and night when I wake and sleep, fortifying the symbolism and power of our relationship.


What I Know

This is what I know…

Our salvation lies in our love.

Sometimes we are too strong to carry on.

I have a dream of my brother beside me.

I have a dream of my sister beside me.

We are my home.

This is what I know…


Caché Grey

The subtle color change is what breathes life into our monochromatic mind’s lives,

We cling to the concept of concepts,

But forget to clear our conscious caché…

No longer blasé but now cliché…

Oh this day, oh this day, on this day,

We chose to stay,

We chose to stay,

We choose to say…

No longer a slave,

But a master of our cerebral clay.

Gray is starting to look great,

Because grey matter is my mate.


The Chaos of Colors

My teenage years and most of my twenties have been beautifully marred in a creative chaos that produced some of the best artwork of my life.

Self Portrait in Cool Colors. 2016. Mixed Media on Paper.

The bold color use, the intense line work, and the shattered patterns displayed in these pieces- make for a direct reflection of my mental and emotional state.

Self Portrait in ROYGBIV. 2016. Mixed Media on Paper.

Honestly, I wouldn’t have had it any other way because the universe is inherently, unmistakably, and unequivocally entropic; therefore, chaos, being it’s main form of inspiration is naturally displayed and is in everything… just like these pieces.

Bust of Male in Complements of Red & Green. 2016. Mixed Media on Paper.


Mother & Child

‘Mother & Child 1’ 2016. Mixed Media on Paper.

I feel like there is a timeless presence here in my two rendition efforts of Picasso’s ‘Mother & Child.’ There’s nothing more classic and more beautiful than a mother and her new born child embracing. The touch of the fingers, the tones of skin color, they all bring me back to a warm and fuzzy place of childhood.

This aesthetic and essence is one of the earliest things I can remember. This feeling would be right after being in the ethereal plane, as a formless spirit being, that I have described in one of my previous posts not too long ago. This expression of chaos but control is what I can faintly remember as a baby.

When I started heavily producing art a few years ago, I studied the way Picasso got into art himself. Quite often he would take masterpieces from artist before him and remake them in his own fashion, so in continuance with that train of thought, I did the same to a few of his pieces while also simultaneously borrowing and abstracting further his unique style of cubist surrealism.

I’m personally enjoying how there’s two versions of this piece and I can’t tell which one is my favorite out of the two. Maybe you can decide for me and comment which one you like better!


‘Mother & Child 2’ 2016. Mixed Media on Paper.

Trail of Stardust Crumbs

Once upon a time we were all one. Everyday just floating around and having multidimensional fun.

One day we were birthed from the sun. And because of that, the “we” turned to “I.” And because of that, the our world began to materialize.

Until finally a strike a lightning, an explosion of fusion, a swirl of chemicals all came together under one unified seas and the skies.

– Christopher Andrés Núñez

Cathartically Concentric / Anahata Awareness

The child in me will never go away…

…I’ll always remember what inspired me to be the man who I am today.

Radiating natural psychedelic beauty…

…to never ever forget the power of love.

I want to soul cry and release every time…

…I wasn’t loving enough to myself and the men around me when they needed it most.

The Heart Chakra path to androgynous balance…

…the reminder to stay centered.

-NVNEZ 01.09.2021

What I learned from a Canadian…

… is that Americans truly don’t know much; that we probably think about too much of the wrong thing; that there is so much more to know about what I perceive and have come to know; and that we are all more similar than we want to actually admit. The things I have learned from a Canadian will forever change my life. He planted the seeds in my heart’s garden to be the brother we need in this hemisphere.

I have always loved Canada but this friendship which was built from a deep need for freedom and camaraderie, will be one of the most cathartically creative coexistences that I’ve come to understand and to have had the pleasure of experiencing. Our friends to the north know a thing or two that will help us, as a communal continent, to survive and thrive. I want a brother who will help me to remember how to love. I want to be that brother to reflect love back.

With enlightened times ahead, I really believe that we will be stronger for the betterment of society, in this realm of existing next to each other. I am really curious to feel deeper about the relationship I share with myself, my nation, and my neighbors of the world. I guess what I’m really trying to say: is that I know I am safer than I have ever been knowing that my brothers look out for me but yet then I am more afraid than ever before from the unknown of what we are all collectively dealing with.

The painful paradox of love is what we journey towards, as astral projections, into a subtle body of cosmic ether to find the balance of androgynous archetypal ancestral fire. With the longest international border shared between any country on the planet, I also now share the longest intellectual border between the mind of a brother and dear friend. This is what I learned from a Canadian.

‘The Planet We Share’ Digital photography. Co-created with my Canadian brother Liam. 2021.