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diego medina

@daydreamboy

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grinding your name into the tablet of my heart

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hidden deep in your heart
there is a love

that is older than you.
a love that is longing,

remembering a loss
so incising,

incurred at the very beginning
when all else was formless

and void, whence a
pretty face appeared there

smiling, crying
alone and wounded in the dark.

you were born with it, a bit
of something forsaken,

and it came with a heartache
greater than your lifetime.

the world will work hard,
do it’s best

to break it free
for you.

you will be sent into a vast emptiness,
you will squander a cosmic

inheritance, only to come
slouching home

with nothing left
but the sting of compunction

greeted by incomprehensible
mercy.

�the great human pursuit
is to return to something.

return, stripped and humbled,
like a newborn

painfully, courageously,
drawing first breath

or aspen surrendering
its final golden leaf to fall.

we give to loss the belief in something
greater to come, and it leaves

us with a lament that engenders
beauty from the broken.

grief is the great cost of being mortal
and having been granted the

divine privilege to experience
love, glimpsing the invisible

and eternal.

~

datura flowers have been the symbol of my summer’s end. the end of summer does indeed stir up a familiar longing, as we prepare farewells to verdure, knowing intrinsically that the principle of all loss is to goad preparation for a great return. these past couple of months otter and i have encountered hundreds of datura flowers on our twice-daily walks, and they have made it known, most evidently, that the entire natural world must be a carefully arranged theophany of such transcendent and primordial patterns. now autumn is here, stripping us back to our most basic form, letting us face our own unavoidable heartache that so easily gets lost in the greening outgrowth. oh, the sweet song of mercy spirals, flowering inside of a silent sorrow…

~

farewell flower
oil on linen
30 x 40 in. by @daydreamboy

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43

13 days ago

something eternal
is hidden there in the heart
of love; something that
compelled us on this journey
towards each other
before any star had flickered
on the face of the dark.

longing is a broken image
of the beginning and
in brokenness we come to find
the meaning of beauty, even beauty
herself, howling somewhere between
thunder and ecstasy at a point
in which all time is restored.

beauty, timeless beauty, is bent there
on the cross: a liebestod woven
amidst the silence that stretches long
between my life and yours.
something has surely faded
from the world; something
that we vaguely remember,

still pressed into our dreams—
a mystery that lingers
longer after the ache is gone.
a bit of moisture still suspends
itself in the sky even after
the rain is hours past me,
and i wait here for you

hearing none but the loneliest
hush.

~

a small painting i never posted/a bigger painting i never posted/wolf initiation by @daydreamboy

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24 days ago

you came from a land
faraway from here

with an image of paradise
pressed in your heart…

i began writing this poem yesterday when this painting i made last year came across my mind. admittedly, and to confess a humbling truth, i was rather challenged by this painting. so much so, in fact, that i never shared it last year when it was finished. to speak plainly, i didn’t think it was good enough. with this piece i sought to depict (and interpret) a strange, albeit subtle, landscape formation i encountered while working at the white sands footprints site (see slide 3), looking out at the orbicular, nearly symbolic, nearly ideographic shapes left behind on the mysterious mineral flats of lake lucero. i was troubled by trying to depict this cryptic gypsum surface texture. now, i’ve written before about my experience being present for the tribal visits/consultations at this ancient site, so i won’t belabor any of those points, but i will reiterate how special it was getting to be one of the few representatives present during multiple tribal consultations as well as excavations. i’ve included some more images of the this site and of the footprints, including a picture of my dad getting to do some excavation work along with a couple other tribal representatives present during one of the excavations. i also want to say how much of an honor it is to not only get to have been one of the few people present for the tribal visits at this site but also to get to make art documenting my (somewhat strange) experiences there.

at one particular location at this site there were… by @daydreamboy

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2 months ago

will you remember our love
when the dust of another

dead world settles?
will our song twirl unending

across the mystery line,
the luminous entelechy,

just beyond the last hazy
figure that instinct or intellect

can discern? o angel,
our song is the wild thunder

breaking apart the crowded,
listless discomfort!

the primeval revelation
that shakes the soul awake!

we do not have long
in this abandoned age, my darling—

the cloud of numbers
is dispersing at the edge

and the weeds of longing
have made the ground

indistinguishable.
i close my eyes

and imagine your face
the first thing illuminated

at every coming dawn…

~

“as we watch the world unwind”
oil on linen
30 x 24 in.

on view at @smokethemoon !!!
photograph by @bradtrone by @daydreamboy

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3 months ago

there are many paths you could take
into the heart,

and darling, we have indeed taken many
together.

some were shorter than others,
certainly,

but the longer paths often came
with more beauty.

i carried your name down a few alone
when you weren’t

there and i learned that the weight
of anything

is meaningless if it is not carried
by love.

some paths were dark, like a nail
had been driven

through the naked, forsaken sun
and it bled

out over the sky!
bleeding

as the thunder rumbled like a hungry
animal happy

it was born to see
in the dark.

i am an old man, darling, and
countless times

have i claimed these paths my triumph!
and even now

i can still get lost on these same bends
i have wandered

time and time again. for though
i am old

the heart is evermore
ancient.

here i am again today, looking out
over a turbid vista

we first came upon together
in another time.

a windless moment has settled the dust
enough for a calmness

to pool in the depending blue
shadow of a shallow dune.

in the middle of every silent moment
is the matrix of a word

spoken at the very beginning of it all.
i hold it here

with me and keep it where i keep you,
where no disturbance

of the mind can reach.

~

“a special moment”
oil on linen
58 x 48 in.
@smokethemoon by @daydreamboy

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4 months ago

o sleeper, awaken!
let your eyes of wonder,

still fretted with the figures
of provident dreams,

temper the animal of
unconscious trepidation!

i have journeyed long
to meet you here,

to confess my love, undying,
at the moment of your remembrance—

o resplendent, redemptive
love with her radiant wings,

emanant from a source
glorified before time!

she is the propitious dove
beaming through

the miasma left
of amnemonic deluge.

o love, ever merciful—she is
sparkle-body, the river

that flows mutually through
us all, from life, through death,

towards life again!
she, the eucatastrophe

that makes the bit of heartbreak
in everyone a temple for God.

she is the wobbling line
that blurs at the edge

of the discernible desert
where the seeker has

been given no other choice
now but inward.

a line so faint, passable,
but there enough

to keep some remote mystery in tact…

~

“there were seven”
oil on linen
30 x 24 in.
@smokethemoon by @daydreamboy

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4 months ago

there is a place
where the poem must wait

before the body can find it.
pounding the floor

of a dead paradigm
while crystal

tears pour out in gethsemane:
a place at the heart

of creation where love
is eternal born.

we must not defame the silence
that softens the journey

between forms, the darkness that
permits the elegy,

nor the offering that burns
against the tongue.

all that is perishable is restored
to beauty, rearranged by the force

of poetry that becomes
the mechanism of return.

there is a desert i have to cross
and there is a blade i have to carry,

though in my hands it is
only your body that lingers.

now as these periwinkles
become as bronze

and all cosmology
shrinks into the calyx

of a blooming reality,
i behold a vision:

a winged thing
burrowing itself into dusk.

it’s a little lonely tonight, baby—
that’s how we know

another poem
is coming.

~

“the arrival”
oil on linen
30 x 24 in. by @daydreamboy

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4 months ago

now mercy rests upon the throne—
humility hath pulled the sword from stone!

the sun suspended like a golden pearl—
o my beloved iridescent world…

@newartdealers @smokethemoon

<3 by @daydreamboy

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5 months ago

for a moment, so brief,
the mysterious iridule

rippled through your hair
and then dispersed

faintly into the night.
such strange enchantment,

some small and swirled
fragment of eternity—

perhaps a passing
hierophany—rolling

along the glossy strands
that lingered in my hand.

a vision most distinct,
swallowed by beclouded sky

only to be born anew
with whirring preeminence

at every edge of perception.
my thin little iridule

holding together
every light across the darkness.

oh, the ageless beauty
that has pierced my

aging heart, bellowing
below the moon

of my solitude,
come to call me home!

a prophecy ignites,
for you and me, baby,

to burn through this exaltation;
a pleasure i bear

flickering its many wings
back to the everlasting

silence.

~

you found me, sweet hierophany!
oil on linen
48 x 36 in.

at @newartdealers in new york next week!!! @smokethemoon by @daydreamboy

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5 months ago

there is a place in the heart,
a secret place

that harbors only
the stillness of God.

a place where the mind cannot go,
where memory is forgiven

even as it chants backwards
for barabbas…

we have been pulled together
to the edge of desire

like tufts of light
that lay themselves against

the faintest, feathery
fringe of cloud.

we have also been brought
to the penumbral

haze of pain,
where we have been pierced

at the side
by the intellect’s temerity.

darling, i know both
how to be abased and abound!

and in both conditions
have i found for myself

a most hearty humiliation,
the awe of beauty,

that has drawn wide
my curtains of heaven!

~

i am here to announce new paintings!

i have, once again, withdrawn from the world to wander through the woods of my own heart’s labor! i stand now, at lofty mountain’s crest, to look out upon the vast and misty terrain i have been so intimately immersed in! i sustain my station of witness and watch as tiny bits of the atmosphere briefly opalize as if to make semiotic gestures towards me—a transmission that sneaks by the intellect to communicate directly with my aching soul! a flash of iridescence awakens something old—perhaps even timeless—that has awaited silently at the center of my being…

fully absorbed in the anagogic, enlightening world of painting! the world of art! so much so, that it did at times seemingly dissolve the boundary between the paintings and me…

deep i dove into the process to encounter the glowing pearl of wonder that buzzes at my core and to be humiliated by the overwhelming awe of beauty. sweet cosmic beauty, sweet earth of ours, what a blessing it is to bear your witness…

oh beauty, we marvel at your grace! you offer respite to the wandering heart…

oh beauty, how you embarrass me! how you uplift me! how you crucify me!

oh beauty, before me you are forever reborn!

and here the hour has come to finally share the first of these new paintings…

this new series will debut at @newartdealers in new york in like three weeks with @smokethemoon !!!

okay, thank you all <3

~

“a place deep in my heart”
oil on linen
38 x48 in. by @daydreamboy

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6 months ago

make a way for love, my dear,
and it will surely find you.

make a way—though
you are wounded

like the pinkened sun
being pulled down

the sky, howling
into a deeper nihility—

love will come
to carry you home.

men are fools
to speak on anything but love!

fools they are!
scraping their shapeless

hearts against the
sordid grindstone!

i have been one of the fools
before, baby, i have been—

long ago, entombing myself
in words that would only

become bird-song
by morning at best.

we knew each other then—
strangers in an ancient land

that would form a bond
eternal…

a sojourn in a strange
dimension is love,

born from eternity
beneath the only star

brave enough to believe in it.
there was only one that could

stay, faithfully, beyond oblivion,
with her long, silken

hair that hung over mid-night
dripping oil down to the plinth.

brave enough to turn her face
towards the sepulcher

and see a garden
beyond the darkness.

i love this world
we are in, baby,

even as it weeps
in anguish.

i love it, your world so young,
as your hand is taken by mine

and the sunlight
falls through your leaves.

all meaning
kneels bleeding in gethsemane.

love is silent at the end of prophecy
where God is always beginning,

as everything that will be, that could be,
coalesces around a center of

crucified beauty.
and we will return again

beyond the haze of mem’ry
(to start a new earth)

yes, we will return
(oh to kiss your neck,

to kiss your chest again)
we will return… by @daydreamboy

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7 months ago

𓅬 available to preorder now – link in bio!

the lady of the lake, guardian of the subconscious…

a shirt to ennoble the swordstress in each of us!

the lady of the lake is a potent archetype of the feminine force of divine wisdom. it is her stewardship of the mystical sword—the inner light of knowing—that enables the fulfillment of divine calling.

“i am not afraid…i was born to do this”
—joan of arc

these shirts are being printed by @depress_press and a special thank you is due to @unviral.value for helping with the font layout! by @daydreamboy

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8 months ago