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belphegor1982 · 5 years ago

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I forgot to put chapter 3 on Tumblr last Friday :3

FAIRY TALES AND HOKUM

Summary: 1937: The O'Connells are required by the English Government to bring the Diamond taken from Ahm Shere from Cairo to London. Things get interesting when Jonathan bumps by chance into an old friend of his from Oxford, Tom Ferguson…

Chapter 2: Right Ground for Trouble (on AO3 here)

“Oh no, please, Rick, not you too!”

Rick began to laugh. Why did people talk so much about boredom within married couples? Eleven years, and Evy still managed to amaze him. In more ways than one.

“Look, honey, I don’t mean to follow the pack or anything, but you truly see mysteries everywhere. And you know what? I was wrong.”

“Were you?” Evelyn seemed pleased, then puzzled. “About what?”

“You don’t just attract trouble. You create most of it as well.”

He had to chuckle at the look on his wife’s face. Then he pulled her close and kissed her to let her know he was joking. For all of her qualities, Evelyn still had some problems catching onto Rick’s humour at times. Rather funny, considering everything he had heard about the famous British sense of humour.

She eventually smiled, and the dark room was silent for a short while. Her head was lying on the pillow right next to his face, and he almost had his nose in her dark hair. The scent of it had changed ever so slightly since they had left London; it was now a bit headier, deeper, and reminded him of sand, stupid as that sounded. The thought that he had come to love the smell of sand made him smile inwardly. He’d have to tell her that, some day. In the meantime, he let his eyes wander up and down her body, and wondered at the feeling growing in him as he gazed at those attractive curves. Before Evelyn, Rick had never truly had a real home, and had not really been looking for one anyway. By finding her, he had found out that he didn’t need a big house to settle in and everything; his home was simply wherever she was. Now this was a thought that he liked a lot.

Ah – his lingering gaze was beginning to make Evy blush. If that wasn’t an added bonus… She was so funny then, with her reddening cheeks, her bright eyes, and the way she bit her lip to keep herself from smiling. The fact that she generally failed delighted him, as his wife happened to be very cute in her unsuccessful attempts to suppress a smile.

“Well, Jonathan always said that there was a nosy streak in the family, but that I was the worst case he’d ever seen. Can you believe that?”

Her eyes demanded an answer from Rick. And he did answer, although he considered this particular moment in this particular place was maybe not best chosen to talk about his brother-in-law.

“Okay, coming from your brother that’s pretty funny, but you’re still the nosiest librarian I’ve ever met. That’s my own opinion about it, and you must admit there’s some ground in my judgement.”

“And you ought to admit there’s some ground in my line of reasoning as well. I mean, think about it! Why pull the act of surprise while he really knew all along…”

“Knew what?”

“Who I – who we were, what we’ve done… After what I saw in that file, I’m even surprised he didn’t bring up Ardeth’s name.”

“It was in –?”

“Oh, yes. There were at least four pages about the Medjai tribe, from their role as Pharaoh’s bodyguards to the protection of the City of the Dead…”

“And Ardeth was mentioned personally?”

“I read his name three or four times. It seems that he was made High Commander of the Medjai in 1932, barely a few years before the second Raising of Imhotep.”

Rick didn’t quite know what to say to that. The Medjai were a desert tribe, one of the most secret ones, and so far he had thought only a handful of people were aware of their existence. Especially in this ever-changing world where no one seemed to care much about mummies, ancient civilisations, dashing adventurers, and mysterious men guarding tombs. Most of the stuff he came across in London’s papers was more likely to involve shady political manoeuvres, arms races, treaties, or winning more gold in the next Olympics.

No wonder Rick felt slightly out of place sometimes.

“So, all this fussing about the first three folk to return from Hamunaptra –”

“All right, it might also be that he’s absent-minded, or that it’s really been ages since he last looked into this file… Otherwise, yes. All of it would just be a front.”

Rick thought it over for a minute, and then pointed out, “You know, I value your argument and all, but are you aware that you’re probably making all this fuss about nothing at all? The guy seemed harmless enough to me – the only thing I was worrying about yesterday was that he looked ready to carry you off, even though you’re wearing this ring.”

To add more weight to his words, he gently took his wife’s left hand and kissed her third finger. Evy grinned at that, but let him finish, her eyes never leaving his face. They shone even more in the dark.

“Anyway, I hope your feelings about it are wrong, sweetheart.”

“Believe it or not, darling, so do I,” said Evelyn, nestling her head against his neck. “Much as I love being right, I wouldn’t like it very much if I really had reason to worry about Mr Ferguson. Jonathan looked a little upset this afternoon when I spoke to him about it.”

“You ‘spoke’ to him? Look, Lord knows your brother and I aren’t exactly the best of pals, but maybe that wasn’t the wisest thing to do.” Rick paused, then frowned slightly. “What did you tell him anyway?”

“Well, I merely pointed out a couple of details to him.”

“What kind of details?”

“For one thing, the fact that it was strange that Ferguson didn’t seem to know Jonathan had been to Hamunaptra. And also that he didn’t see any relation between Evelyn Carnahan and Dr Evelyn O’Connell. It wasn’t such a big deal, honestly.”

“Yeah.” Rick scratched his head. “How did he react?”

“Jonathan? He sounded – sort of angry. He sulked a little bit. I mean, he can be such a child about some things that it wasn’t really that surprising, but it was odd to see him overreact that way.”

Rick was quiet for a minute, as he let his hand run from his wife’s shoulder to her hip. Of course, the thought of the warm skin underneath the nightdress sneaked into his mind and he tried to shut it off, keeping that for later. For the moment, he had something to tell Evelyn.

“Look, Evy… I’ll say this only once, so listen up. I understand your brother. If I’d met an old buddy of mine, and my sister insinuated shady stuff about him after seeing him only for an evening, I would’ve been pretty angry.”

“You don’t have a sister that I know of.”

“I know I don’t,” said Rick, rolling his eyes. “But that, Evelyn, my love, is not the point.”

It was her turn to frown slightly. In the dark, he saw her blink thoughtfully a few times. “So, your point is?”

“My point is, give it time. Don’t go ‘speaking’ more about that to Jonathan – you’ll never get a reasonable answer. Because that’s what you want, right?”

Evelyn let out a little laugh. “Yes, well, Jonathan’s not quite what I’d call ‘ reasonable ’ most of the time. I might’ve guessed that he wouldn’t be reasonable about that. He’s far too trusting , though – one of these days that’ll come back to bite him.”

“Your memory’s that bad? It already has. A number of times. God, choosing Mark Bellamy as poker partner…” Rick couldn’t help a snort. Bellamy was more of a cheat than Jonathan could ever dream to be, and that had caused his brother-in-law to lose quite spectacularly. He had just been lucky Bellamy was only a small-time hustler and not some gang leader.

Evy didn’t add anything, and Rick took the opportunity to crawl closer to her and say between kisses, “Sweetheart, why don’t we – forget about all that and – the rest? We can always talk about it – tomorrow. What d’you say?”

She eased herself among the pillows, and smiled before answering, “That’d be good, yes.”

One minute later, Rick had forgotten everything that was not exclusively Evelyn.

.⅋.

“I am positively surrounded by married couples.”

Tommy turned to Jonathan with an eyebrow raised, and Evy laughed softly. “Is it as bad as you make it sound?”

Jonathan snorted. “Oh, no. It’s worse. See that chap over here?” He pointed to Tommy, who looked surprised. “He told me yesterday that he married a common friend seven years ago. So he’s turned sides. Lousy traitor.”

Tommy grinned, getting the joke.

“Really?” Evy’s voice was polite, but there was a definite pleasure in it as well. “Congratulations, Mr Ferguson. About the happy event, but also for not turning out a complete scoundrel, like my brother here.”

They were walking to the Museum – Evy had kept her promise, and arranged an interview with Dr Hakim, the curator. Despite the overwhelming heat – it was three in the afternoon – Jonathan felt quite thrilled about this interview. He was going to see the diamond, for the first time in almost two years, and show it off to Tommy, who had never seen it. Of course, it was a bit of a drag not being able to touch it – not to mention taking it with him – but that was something already.

“What is your wife’s name?”

“Elizabeth, we met in Oxford years ago. She’s in our home in Dorset right now. She works for the telephone company, couldn’t get time off to follow me here.”

Evy slowed down her pace to be level with Jonathan, and looked at him thoughtfully. “You know, now that I think of it, you’ve never, ever brought up the subject of marriage…”

“That’s because I happen to enjoy my life as a happily debauched bachelor, thank you very much,” said Jonathan, sarcastic. Women and their obsession with marriage… He just couldn’t see the point.

“I’m sure you do,” she retorted in the same tone of voice. “And that’s too bad, really, because I think I would’ve liked being an aunt.”

Jonathan opened his mouth to reply something, but she was quicker. “Of course, there’s also the fact that I don’t think any sane woman would want to share her life with you the way things are right now. As I know you, you’d be picking her pockets in less than three days.”

Right. Now Jonathan was fuming. “Now listen here, you –”

“I know, I have no right to speak to you like that – I’ll probably be regretting it for the rest of the day, but be that as it may, I’m married, to a wonderful person, and I have a wonderful son. Remember how Mrs Pemberton used to rant on and on about how the blood would be dying with us, because you were a rascal and I was turning spinster. Jonathan, I found someone – why don’t you try and search, some day?”

Evy had stopped in the middle of the pavement at some point of her speech, and was now staring at him in a way that made him look away. She would not move until she’d got an answer, he knew her well enough to be aware of that. Careful to avoid glancing at Tommy, who was standing a few feet ahead of them pretending he wasn’t seeing nor hearing anything, he waited to let his anger cool off a little and said, “Now look. Don’t mix things up. I’m not you – I’m not even like you. I like my life just as it is, and I’m sure you like your life the way it is as well. I’m not marrying some girl just to please you, so it’s no use to badger me about that, all right? If, by extraordinary chance, I happen to change my mind on the subject, you’ll be the first to know, I swear. ‘Til that day, please, not a word about it.”

Evy looked dumbfounded, and a little hurt, as Jonathan noticed with a slight pang of conscience. He hated to see his baby sister hurt, especially when he was the one who had caused it. With a sigh, he took her by the arm and started walking again.

“Come on, don’t be offended – you’re the one who brought up the subject, remember? And in such a subtle way, too.”

She said nothing, and when he looked over at Tommy, he noticed that his friend’s shoulders were hunched, as if he was still waiting for the storm to pass.

“All right, all right, I’m sorry I said that. Just – forget about it, will you?” Cripes. His one and only sister, and he still didn’t know what to say when he’d upset her. “Besides, you’re a great mum and all, but you don’t know, maybe you’d be terrible as an aunt.” Ah, he thought he caught something flicker over his sister’s face. So he pressed on, of course. “Right, try to imagine me as a dad. Now if that doesn’t make you laugh…” Hooray! Victory was at hand – Evy had that strained half-smile she gave when she had her mind set on not smiling. Jonathan had seen this expression directed at him quite a number of times when they were younger; now, it occurred mostly when Alex was trying to make it up to his mum after a prank gone wrong. If there was something the boy took after his uncle, it was the ability to talk himself out of every tricky situation. But Jonathan wasn’t sure if the knack of getting himself into these situations in the first place came from Evy or himself.

As they came into view of the Museum, he whispered in his sister’s ear, “Well, if you’re really that mad at me, let’s go find that bloody Book of the Dead, raise a mummy or two, and save the world again – you could let steam off, and I could make it up to you by… doing the best I can.”

That made Evy’s eyes dart up to him, and he was immensely glad to see a genuine smile finally dawn on her face. “Like you did last time?”

Jonathan scratched the back of his neck. He looked briefly at his sister, gave an embarrassed grin, and turned to look ahead at the entrance of the Museum of Antiquities. “Ah… yes. Like last time.”

Evelyn gave her brother’s arm a very slight squeeze, and her smile stayed on. Tommy grinned at him, and Jonathan grinned back. Too bad that the bloke never had a baby sister; he didn’t know the wonderful feeling of victory one could get by simply getting a smile from his sister after a conversation like that.

The curator was in his office, waiting for them in front of his desk, which was rather exceptional – Dr Fahad Hakim was not the sort of man who liked to wait for anyone. He was a thin man, of average height, with thick salt-and-pepper hair. Jonathan saw his small black eyes narrow at the sight of them, and was instantly reminded of how very uncomfortable the fellow made him feel each time he saw him. The ancient Medjai legacy must include the beady, steady stare that was one of Ardeth’s specialities.

“Dr O’Connell. Right on time, as always.” Evy was acknowledged with a polite smile that unveiled white teeth. Unsurprisingly, there was nothing pleasant about the way Hakim shifted his glance from sister to brother, though the tone remained polite. “Mr Carnahan.” How on earth had his sister managed to persuade this dragon to let him stand four feet away from the diamond, he would never begin to guess.

Jonathan gulped discreetly, and refrained himself from taking a step backwards, intent on keeping what little dignity he had left. Tommy looked at him quizzically.

“Dr Hakim?” Best to leave the entire public relation job to Evy. She was easily the best at that – far better than he and Rick. “May I introduce Mr Thomas Ferguson, from the British Antiques Research Department – I talked to you about him yesterday.”

“I certainly remember you doing so. Good afternoon, Mr Ferguson,” said Dr Hakim, extending a hand to Tommy, who shook it in a pretty different way than he had shook Jonathan’ and Evy’s. Evy had drilled him on proper behaviour. Officer training had nothing on Evelyn O’Connell once she got a good lecture going.

“I’m honoured, Dr. How do you do?” Tom’s voice was polite and even – it seemed to surprise Evy, and it sure surprised her brother. Hell, how could he tone down that accent of his at will?

The curator looked pleasantly surprised, too – ever so slightly – as he nodded his appreciation. Then he left his desk and walked over to the door. “Dr O’Connell, gentlemen – shall we proceed?”

The three of them left Hakim’s office and walked down the corridor, Evelyn, Hakim and Tommy in the lead, discussing animatedly some dynasty of Pharaohs. Jonathan trailed behind, idly gazing around him at the old stone walls, grateful for the change in temperature – it was really stiflingly hot outside – and not really listening to the conversation.

When they passed through a room where a few mummies were displayed, he could not help a silent snort, remembering the scream his sister had let out when he had quite literally ‘raised’ a mummy from its sarcophagus, on that particular morning, so long ago. Some things turned out quite weird, really: he couldn’t recall some events that had taken place one week ago, but he had kept in mind every detail of the day after the Sultan’s Casbah, when he had shown that bloody ‘puzzle box’ to Evy. Down to the fact that the Bembridge scholars had rejected his sister’s application for the third time. And also the massive hangover he had been nursing.

They crossed a small number of rooms, and finally stopped in front of a large wooden door. Evy and Tommy stepped aside as Hakim took out a bunch of keys.

The room behind the door was small, and rather dark, the only ray of light coming from a high, fairly large window. There were several items, but none of them caught Jonathan’s attention as much as the diamond, sitting imposingly on a low, sober-looking display shelf against the wall. The light was mirrored in its numerous facets, only stopped by the elaborated gold decorations.

The Diamond of Ahm Shere in all its gleaming glory.

“Whoa,” whispered Tommy, his eyes goggling.

“I know the feeling,” said Jonathan in the same voice, a big grin pulling at the left corner of his mouth. “Takes your breath away, doesn’t it?”

Tommy only nodded, blinking.

“The diamond taken from Ahm Shere,” announced Hakim, heading for the gem with Evy. “Although I suspect you already know the story behind it, Mr Ferguson, since you appear to be familiar both with Egyptian secrets and the ones who brought it here.”

“I do know the story,” Tommy said, not taking his fascinated eyes off the diamond. “Is it true, what I’ve heard? About the link between the oasis and the diamond?”

That drew Jonathan’s attention away from the gem. “What link?” he asked, puzzled. “What’re you on about?”

“According to what Ardeth once told me,” said Evy, taking a step to have a better look at the diamond, “the pyramid would be a sort of lock to the oasis, to which the diamond would be the key. But I didn’t quite understand what he meant by that. Besides, I had other things on my mind, at that point.” She trailed off, and Jonathan realised that this conversation must have taken place aboard Izzy’s dirigible, on their way to Ahm Shere. While they had been chasing after Imhotep and Anck-su-namun, who had kidnapped Alex. Bloody rotten mummies.

“Why didn’t I catch that bit?” he asked, interested in both the answer and talking Evy away from the memory. That worked, and she stared at him, a thin dark eyebrow raised sarcastically.

“I believe it had something to do about you dreaming about that ‘gold pyramid’…”

Jonathan opened his mouth, but, deciding that he’d had enough quarrelling with his sister to last him a long time, shut it and turned back to the diamond with a noncommittal shrug.

Then they heard the footfall. Hurried footsteps racing up the hall, coming closer and closer, until –

“Dr Hakim! Dr Hakim!”

The curator walked over to the door, where a young, skinny Egyptian fellow had just come rushing in, his face drenched with sweat.

“What is the matter, Jamal?” asked Hakim in a slightly strained voice, and Jonathan marvelled at the cold, calm curator suddenly coming so close to losing his cool.

“Problems – problems in the – the Akhenaten chamber,” the young assistant panted breathlessly. “Someone has moved pieces – the bust of the accursed Pharaoh has been set down – glass all over the floor, must be a broken window –”

“Calm yourself, Jamal,” said Hakim, putting a hand on the lad’s shoulder. “I’m going. Have you told Abdul?”

“Yes, sir, I met him on the way here,” stammered Jamal. “What shall I do?”

“Just give me one second while I speak to our guests,” answered Hakim patiently, and his steady voice seemed to have a calming effect on the boy. He nodded, and leaned against the wall for support, as Hakim turned to his ‘guests’.

“Well, I’m genuinely sorry that the visit was so dramatically shortened, but it appears I am needed. May I escort you to the main hall?”

Tommy opened his mouth, looking scandalised, but Jonathan was quicker. “Come on, can’t we just stay a mite longer? I mean, what’s the worst that could possibly happen?”

“Whoever broke into the Museum could break in here and steal some more objects,” replied the curator, coolly. “And I believe you’ve seen enough of the diamond. After all, it is all that it seems – just a gem.”

“It’s not ‘just a gem’!” exclaimed Tommy. “It’s the only remnant of the Oasis of Ahm Shere – the key to the pyramid and the chambers within!”

“What exactly do you know about it?” Evy piped up, and Jonathan noticed the glint in her eyes. Oh, boy. Whenever it appeared, this glint meant trouble.

Tommy shrugged disappointedly. “Not much more than you do. My superiors aren’t quite keen on giving out information they feel we don’t need to know.”

Jonathan didn’t like the look on Evy’s face, so he stepped up and tried to be reasonable, for once. “We could stand sentinel. You know, guard this room or something, until you find the guy. Nothing’s going to happen to the contents of this room while I’m in it, I swear.”

“And I’ll help,” added Tommy. “Believe me, if anyone tries to break in uninvited, I’ll bash their ‘ead in.”

The curator looked unimpressed, but Evelyn stared at them, frowning. “Can we actually trust you with the diamond? Do you swear that nothing will happen?”

“Evy, I swear on my own head,” said Jonathan, seriously. Well, almost. He really wanted to be, though.

Beside him, Tommy nodded solemnly, his face impassive. Evy sighed. For some reason, it was Hakim who spoke, and even more surprising, there was the ghost of a smile on his severe face. “Well. It would seem that you are quite determined. Consider yourself to be on a mission from now on. I may be wrong, of course – but I have a few reasons to think we can trust you.” And he smiled. He actually smiled slightly at Jonathan, his eyes still stern, and the Englishman got the feeling that he might be familiar with some of the events that occurred at Ahm Shere. Maybe Ardeth had told him about it , as they were distant blood relatives. In fact, their closeness was certainly more due to their both being Medjai than their actual kinship.

Jonathan stared back, a feeling of pride growing in him. Then he shook himself out of it and grinned. “Well, thanks – for trusting us, I mean. Not many people who’d do that, I guess.”

Evy chuckled, and the curator’s face went back to its usual gravity.

“We will conduct a thorough search,” he said, turning to young Jamal, “and I hope we’ll be able to catch the intruders in time. Stay here with Messrs Carnahan and Ferguson, while Dr O’Connell and I gather the attendants for the search.”

“Yes, Dr Hakim, sir,” said Jamal in a firmer voice, straightening his fez on his head. Hakim laid briefly a hand on his shoulder again, and, after a last glance at Jonathan and Tommy, he walked off with Evy. A few seconds later, there was the sound of a key turning in its lock, and footfall dying away.

There was silence; then Jonathan went to sit on the floor, his back against the wall. Tommy soon came to join him.

“Well, that’s quite some sister you’ve got, mate. She’s not only smart, she’s got guts as well,” he said after a little while.

“I know.” Jonathan grinned. “She and her family – they’re the stuff heroes are made of.”

“Knock it off, Jon. You’re her family too, in case you’ve forgotten.”

“Of course I haven’t, you idiot – it’s just that I’m no hero. Try as I may, I’ll always be the average bloke, and I happen to like it that way. God knows they need someone normal in the family, for a change. Bloody bunch of heroic nutcases, the lot of them.”

Tommy nodded with a smile, and didn’t press the matter further, something for which Jonathan was secretly grateful. There were entirely in the wrong place for a proper heart-to-heart, and much too sober for it.

He looked up across the room to Jamal. The boy was standing near the door as he gazed at the chamber, looking a little scared. He couldn’t be more than twenty-two or so.

“Your name’s Jamal, isn’t it?”

The assistant started, and looked at them curiously, as if he wasn’t sure that the Englishman had actually addressed him. Jonathan grinned encouragingly.

“Erm, yes,” stuttered Jamal. “It is. You’re Mr Carnahan, aren’t you?”

“That’d be me, yes – didn’t know I was that famous.” Jonathan nodded. “And this fellow here, with the weird accent, is Tommy Ferguson.”

Tom waved briefly with a smile. Jamal nodded respectfully, and stared back at Jonathan. “You’re the Jonathan Carnahan who brought the Diamond of Ahm Shere to the museum?”

“I am,” he said, both pleased and puzzled by such fame. “How long have you been working here for?”

“Three months, sir,” answered the boy. “Dr Hakim was very kind to hire me even if I was not twenty-one. I really needed to work, and I like to work here.”

“How old are you, anyway?” asked Tommy.

“Twenty-one now, sir. My birthday was last month.”

“Jolly good – happy birthday, then, son!” said Jonathan, grinning. “Even if it’s a bit late –”

Something made the three of them look up at the window. There was a sound behind it, although Jonathan didn’t recognise what it was exactly.

Then another kind of sound came from the door. This time, the Englishman recognised it at once – somebody was trying to break through it.

“Tom –”

“I heard.”

Jamal had joined them near the wall, shaking like a leaf. As the mystery man on the other side kept fiddling with the lock , Jonathan started to feel the familiar cold sensation rising in his stomach, which meant he was dangerously close to panic. There was no adventurer around, no blazing guns this time. What to do, what to do, what to do…

Turning around wildly, he caught sight of a cylindrical thingy with the head of Horus at the top. He grabbed it and joined Tommy who was standing in front of the door. Jamal was a few feet away, still shivering, but resolute.

“Don’t you need –?” asked Jonathan, as he noticed his friend’s hands were empty of any weapon. He was answered by a grim smile.

“Don’t worry, mate. I won’t.”

The lock scraping grew more and more intense. Through his panic, a part of Jonathan’s brain that was still functioning marvelled at the fact that those guys, whoever they were, had managed to find, amidst all the rooms and chambers of the museum, the one hiding the diamond.

And them. Though not for so long, it seemed.

CRACK!! The window was smashed into pieces, distracting the three men for a second as they whirled around – it was one second too many. The door banged open, and before Jonathan could turn back to it, pain exploded at the back of his head. He had the sensation of falling backwards, the metal cylinder still clutched in his hand; a split second later, the world turned blood red, then black, and he knew no more.

#Fairy Tales and Hokum #my stuff #fanfiction #the mummy #the mummy films

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allyourprettywords · 7 years ago

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“Dick Gregory,” Hakim Bellamy

you said war was a joke

except you meant it

not a mean bone in your body

all funny ones made it harder to break you

served your country for eighty-two years

minus the two you spent in the military

served your country a plate of mirrors

and told us to smile

served black people a glass of ourselves

and told us to drink up

if we were still hungry

#Hakim Bellamy #poem #poetry #memoriam #Dick Gregory

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lastday-firstday · 3 years ago

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FIRST DAY by Hakim Bellamy

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2b1o · 4 years ago

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Taz by Hakim Bey

trecho do capítulo “declaração pirata” que compõe o apêndice; esse trecho foi copiado e colado a partir da versão digital da edição da editora conrad; na edição da editora veneta o capítulo se chama "discurso pirata", páginas 81-82:

"DANIEL DEFOE, escrevendo sob o pseudônimo de capitão Charles Johnson, escreveu o que se tornou o primeiro texto histórico sobre os piratas, A General History of the Robberies and Murders of the Most Notorious Pirates (Uma História Geral dos Roubos e Assassinatos dos Mais Notórios Piratas). De acordo com Jolly Roger (a bandeira pirata), de Patrick Pringie, o recrutamento de piratas era mais efetivo entre os desempregados, fugitivos e criminosos desterrados. O alto-mar contribuiu para um instantâneo nivelamento das desigualdades de classe. Defoe relata que um pirata chamado capitão Bellamy fez este discurso para o capitão de um navio mercante que ele tomou como refém. O capitão tinha acabado de recusar um convite para se juntar aos piratas:

Sinto muito que eles não vão deixar você ter sua chalupa de volta, pois eu desaprovo fazer mesquinharia com qualquer um, quando não é para minha vantagem. Dane-se a chalupa, nós vamos naufragá-la e ela poderia ser de uso para você. Embora você seja um cachorrinho servil, e assim são todos aqueles que se submetem a ser governados por leis que os homens ricos fazem para sua própria segurança; pois os covardes não têm coragem nem para defender eles mesmos o que conseguiram por vilania; mas danem-se todos vocês: danem-se eles, um monte de patifes astutos e vocês, que os servem, um bando de corações de galinha cabeças ocas. Eles nos difamam, os canalhas, quando há apenas esta diferença: eles roubam os pobres sob a cobertura da lei, sem dúvida, e nós roubamos os ricos sob a proteção de nossa própria coragem. Não é melhor tornar-se então um de nós, em vez de rastejar atrás desses vilões por emprego?

Quando o capitão replicou que a sua consciência não o deixaria romper com as regras de Deus e dos homens, o pirata Bellamy continuou:

Você é um patife de consciência diabólica, eu sou um príncipe livre e tenho autoridade suficiente para lev antar guerra contra o mundo todo, como quem tem uma centena de navios no mar e um exército de 100 mil homens no campo; e isto a minha consciência me diz: não há conversa com tais cães chorões, que deixam os superiores chutá-los pelo convés a seu bel prazer.

#leitura #taz #hakim bey

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abqartworkers · 4 years ago

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Open Letter Regarding the Treatment of Gallery Curator Augustine Romero

October 19, 2020

Mayor Tim Keller Director of Cultural Services Shelle Van Etten de Sanchez Director of Office of Equity & Inclusion Michelle Melendez Deputy Director of Cultural Services Hakim Bellamy Public Art Urban Enhancement Division Manager Sherri Brueggemann

Dear Mayor Keller:

Recently, a concerning situation regarding racial equity within the City’s Public Art Division has come to our attention. We understand that Augustine Romero, the Gallery Curator for the City of Albuquerque, has been evicted from his office at the South Broadway Cultural Center. This raises questions about workplace mistreatment and possible discrimination. Mr. Romero has overseen the South Broadway Cultural Center and KiMo galleries since 2006. As the only curator of the city we are aware of who is working directly with living artists in our community, he is also one of the longest serving curators that is a person of color, identifying as a Chicano man. It is our understanding that Mr. Romero has been displaced to two offices, one in City Hall near the Department of Cultural Services and the other in the offices of Public Art at the Convention Center. This means that Mr. Romero is the only curator in the City of Albuquerque that is not based in the gallery where he curates the majority of exhibitions. This poses a major barrier to artists, many of whom are from underrepresented groups and who regularly met with Mr. Romero at the South Broadway Cultural Center to discuss shows and exhibitions. Now our choice is to meet with Mr. Romero in one of two offices located miles from the South Broadway Cultural Center. Another option is to conduct business such as signing contracts and discussing details of art shows in the parking lot or shed of the SBCC. The other option is to meet in a public space in the gallery with no office space. This is not only humiliating to Mr. Romero and artists, but it also speaks volumes about the lack of critical reflexivity on institutionalized racism, white supremacy, and settler colonialism within the division and the CSD.

This appears to us as a present-day, real-time example of the institutional racism that the City purports to stand in opposition to. According to the City of Albuquerque Office of Equity & Inclusion website, its mission is “[t]o inspire and equip city government to make Albuquerque a national role model of racial equity and social justice.” One of the stated goals of the office is to “[d]evelop a city workforce that is representative at all levels of the demographics of the city.” Also on the Office of E&I website: “We define inequities as disparities in health, mental health, economic, education, or social factors that are systemic and avoidable and, therefore, considered unjust or unfair.”

It seems to us that the actions of Mr. Romero’s superiors in denying him access to these spaces would severely hamper his ability to perform his workplace duties, thereby causing potential disparities related to his job performance evaluation and any potential promotion or salary increase. These are precisely the kinds of aggressions that people of color face in the workplace that lead to the vast continuing racial wealth gap in this country. Furthermore, racial equity with regard to representation within the leadership in the City as a whole, the CSD, as well as the Public Art Urban Enhancement Division appears to fall far short of the Office of Equity & Inclusion’s stated goal to have a workforce that is representative at all levels of our city’s demographics. We find it deeply concerning that the Gallery Curator, one of the few people of color in an important professional leadership position in this Division, would face such serious obstacles from his superiors to the proper performance of his job duties.

We would like to understand this situation better and to know how the City will take immediate steps to correct this injustice. We look forward to hearing from you. Thank you for your time and consideration.

Sincerely,

ABQ Art Workers: Szu-Han Ho, Albuquerque, New Mexico Autumn Chacon, Albuquerque, New Mexico Scott Williams, Albuquerque, New Mexico Nanibah Chacon, Albuquerque, New Mexico

#onealbuquerque #decolonize BIPOCartists LandBack

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halfbloodrp-blog1 · 8 years ago

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THIS IS WAR

For many years, Camp Half Blood has been a place of peace. Besides the occasional monster kills outside the borders, there hasn’t been an all out battle... until now. As far as the demigods know, there is an army of monsters unlike any they’ve seen before coming to camp. Chiron is absolutely confident they can’t cross the borders, and he’s right. But with such a huge congregation of monsters waiting for a battle outside their borders, the demigods will have no choice but to engage. Otherwise, there will never be a way out.

What the demigods don’t know is... this battle was orchestrated by Lyssa, the spirit of mad rage and Maniae, daimones/Goddess of madness, insanity and crazed frenzy that feel neglected by the camp because of no representation or worship. They don’t want to kill the demigod race. No, they want attention from them. But they were still able to convince a congregation of demons and monsters that they want to massacre the entire camp. The monsters believe they are going into war to win but these ancient spirits of rage will make sure no demigod dies. Instead, they will take them as prisoner.

This event technically spans TWO weeks. One week will be the fighting (that ICly only lasts a day) and the other will be the aftermath of the battle when the prisoners are trapped in the dungeon and the survivors are mourning the “deaths” of their comrades (this ICly does last a week.)

Dates:

May 10th - 14th: 1st part, The Battle

May 15th - 19th: 2nd part, The Mourning

May 20th: The War Council meeting (Important to event plot. Post meeting announcement by Chiron will be posted for those who didn’t attend.)

May 21st: The Prisoners return home (event ends)

*** SIGN UP REQUIRED. Please see ‘read more’ for details and directions..

How does this happen?

The campers will watch their fellow half bloods “die” in front of them in battle. These perishing demigods will feel as if their life is slipping away from them and they will appear to be gravely injured. However, this is nothing but a trick by Dolus and Apate, two other spirits committed to Lyssa’s cause. As a monster strikes to kill, the Maniae will disintegrate weapons or stop strikes before they happen. (They will only stop strikes that they know will lead to mortal peril.)

Apate will create the extremely realistic illusions that make it seem as though the demigods were hit and mortally wounded. When the surrounding demigods are distracted, Dolus will then magically transport each of the “dead” demigods to an unknown location where they will be confined to Lyssa’s dungeon for an undetermined amount of time. When the spirits feel they have enough demigods as prisoners, they will fill the remaining monsters with cold fear, causing them to flee and end the battle.

For a week, the leftover campers will be left to mourn their losses and question how the bodies of their fellow campers disappeared... until such a time that the spirits finally contact camp with a deal: promise to build us shrines, or you’ll never get your loved ones back.

How do I participate?

- Camp Bound: Medics, provision suppliers and those too young or afraid to battle that will stay inside the camp borders safely to tend to the incoming wounded and help the fighters with supplies as much as possible for the 1st part of the event . They will mourn their “fallen” warriors for the 2nd part of the event before given the camp is informed by the spirits that they have them as prisoners.

- Survivors: Demigods who fought in the battle and were able to avoid mortal peril and get taken by Dolus for the 1st part of the event. They will mourn their “fallen” comrades for the 2nd part of the event before given the camp is informed by the spirits that they have them as prisoners.

- Prisoners: Demigods who almost got killed outside the borders as fighters or if they were doing something else (like taking injured inside the borders or bringing supplies to the fighters) during the 1st part of the event. They might have avoided the mortal hit or they might not have and truly died but, before either could happen, Apate created the illusion that they died and Dolus took them away to Lyssa’s dungeon. They will feel as if they are dying in the moment that the illusion happens and pass out. Any other demigod who witnessed this will presume them dead but the moment that the others are distracted, Dolus will make their body disappear. These demigods will spend the 2nd part of the event in Lyssa’s dungeon. They, therefore, CAN’T attend the War Council meeting on the 20th.

- Lyssa’s Dungeon: It’s a cramped quarters of just two rooms: one for everyone to sleep and live in for the week and another for tiny one for the bathroom (one toilet, one sink.) There are only a handful of blankets for them to use and nothing more. Prison food will be brought in twice a day. Demigod powers are weaker in this dungeon, the prison bars are immune to powers and there is no way out. The Maniae are guarding the prison.

SIGNUPS

IM or send an ask to the main in order to sign up. Simply state the full name of characters you want to participate and what they will be. (Ex. “Evelyn of Ross = CB, Isabella Kemmerich = Survivor, Aleiya Griffin = Prisoner.”)

What we want: Camp Bound + Survivors should = approx. the amount of Prisoners. (Ex. 20 camp bound and 20 survivors and 40 prisoners.)

Camp Bound (32)

- Evelyn of Ross

- Jonah Thornhill

- Kieran Irwin

- McKenzie Montgomery

- Aidan Kutzner

- Cecily Cohen

- Corinne Gilbert

- Patrick Murphy

- Ali Hakim

- Roa Nam

- Kyle Burke

- Connor Sommers

- Ryder Reynolds

- Nine

- Chloe Fisher

- Jericho Kordel

- Juliet Esposito

- Stargirl Martinez

- Alec Reyes

- Carter Brooks

- Mills Parker

- Karma Casey

- Thomas Tyrell

- Caspian Miller

- Blue de Laurant

- Gale Irwin

- Bethany Clearwater

- Jocelyn Hayes

- Justin Esposito

- Ryker Martin

- Mycah Hewitt

- Cecilia Flowers

Survivors (48)

- Isabella Kemmerich

- Tequila Ross-Quick

- Cara Beure Pars

- Jade Reed

- Lukas Pryor

- Angelique Wright

- Trenton Williams

- Xavier Abbot

- Emilia O’Malley

- Nikolai Tomov

- Lilith Swan

- Delaney Connelly

- Caradoc Tudor

- Renate Cruz

- Malakai Darton

- Victoria Delgado

- Admetus Troy

- Mikhail Covington

- Flynn Castor

- Skyegirl Sinworth

- Cameron Price

- Massie Reynolds

- Isla Cortland

- Leo Martell

- Seth Glendower

- Ciera Dawes

- Erik Darton

- Victor Mathis

- Justin Danvers

- Cassiopeia Casillas

- Dakota Hutchinson

- Sophia de Lavandiere

- Jalex Den

- Melisa Ash

- Adrian Banks

- Caleb Dawson

- Nora Willow

- Eli Montagne

- Ethan Germaine

- Carson Laurens

- Rey Donovan

- Lyndsey Rosier

- Isabella Sanchez

- Kelian Mayfair

- Clara Lockhart

- Miyuki Okumura

- Maddox Siegmund

- Ophelia Contraire

- Blaize Jaynes

- Allison Wilder

Prisoners (52)

- Aleiya Griffin

- Melody Copperlaire

- Karla Sumikura

- Harlow Graham

- Vicki Delgado

- Mattie Kalenburg

- Amelia Grace Cunning

- Aiden Danvers

- Damien Ross

- Keaghan Allen

- Rhysand Locke

- Dominic Luna

- Brandon Williams

- James Emerson

- Elspeth Clarkson

- Elias Holt

- Adamus Finch

- Aaron Montgomery

- Achilles Valenciano

- Grayson Lee

- Quinn Parker

- Bambi Macon

- Alec Vis’Carro

- Drew Piker

- Trixie Carpenter

- Nixon Novac

- Valerie St. Claire

- Juno Collins

- Dove Anderson

- Dahlia-Rose Matthews

- Lena Reinbaum

- Devlin Allen-Broomwell

- Dallas Mugwash

- Rhis Johnson

- Jane Nolan

- Matthew Morrison

- Estrella Pendragon

- Erah Henning

- Charles Grant

- Lucien Holmes

- Jamie Ricci

- Ian Calloway

- Taylor Lightwood

- Aurora Jones

- Ava Diaz

- Bellamy Leighton

- Sefina Collins

- Ashley Luxworth

- Logan Tylin

- Aeron Poindexter

- Luna Sivay

- Jackson Knight

- Lucas Ortega

Other (3)

- Amelia Lyle

- Daphne Eliades

- Azalea Eliades

#hbrp:event

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bealsandco · 8 years ago

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Process - A Multi-artist, Multi-media Show Goes Behind the Scenes

What: A presentation of visual art, poetry, and song exploring the artistic process. When: Show runs May 12–23. Opening reception on May 12, 5–7 pm. Special preview available by request. Where: Beals & Co. Showroom, 830 Canyon Road, Santa Fe, NM 87501.

santa fe, nm | On May 12, the Santa Fe art scene will be presented with an unprecedented multi-artist and multi-media gallery exhibition and art experience centered on moments of transition. Featuring the collaborative work of artists from varied genres, the show explores what happens when they are asked to create together, adopting an entirely new process. The concept of process won’t be limited to the artists themselves—viewers will be asked to delve into their own experience of taking in the art, and what it means to them. During the opening reception attendees will have the opportunity to learn about how the works came to life, and the road the artists took to get there.

Process features a six piece suite of work by collaborative partners Patrick Cloudface Burnham, an accomplished visual artist, dancer, and D, and lead show artist and poet, Carlos Contreras. Contreras and Cloudface will speak through canvas and paint, poetry, and presentation, to convey their process. In addition to their collaboration, the show will also include the visual artists David Santiago, Natalee Maxwell, Adelina Cruz, and Al’Nair Lara.

Through their creative process of painting, each of them will respond to a written work by one of the following poets: Hakim Bellamy, Jessica Lopez, Ebony Isis Booth, and Damiel Flores. Completing the trifecta of works, a number of songwriters (as yet to be announced) will also respond to the poems, with their songs available for download via a QR code that will be distributed at the Showroom.

All are welcome to attend Process, opening on Friday, May 12 at the Beals & Co. Showroom, 830 Canyon Road.

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hakimbe · 5 years ago

Video

youtube

#COVID16eeens

Writers always move in silence, it's shit we create

That need a crowd for survival, put that bread onna plate

2 am with the pen, cause I can't even think

at 8pm on a Wednesday takin' the stage.

8:30 in the morning in the midst of a plague

Doin' donuts on the highway, ain't no one in the way…

An enemy you can't see, there ain't no runnin' away

So we all go into hiding, like a witness who sings

Could call it homi-suicide, lootin', larceny, rape

But Mother Nature fight dirty, we she retaliates

She be like…

“Man, he human

And he don't know what he doin'

He his own worst enemy

His pathogens will do him in,

Ruin'em cause every time he get 'round more than two of him, It's Ludacris

And all this elbow room ain't gettin' thru to him,

A hooligan without a gang, is scary as a Buddhist is, forced him to reside inside the temple that he grew up in, scared of all the silence now, the violence wasn't new to him,

Crimes against the planet and humanity were usual…

A brutalist…

What goes around catches up to you, Harvey

Lucky, you have house, but can't have no House Parties, all we

got is Netflix 'n Which ‘Wich

Might be the 1st generation to die of privilege

But the children are alright so we won't go extinct

They just fit'n to multiply like Bebe'n em kids

Emcees bragged bout fevers of a hundred and six….

….and now they never ever

ever ever?

...say that they sick

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investmart007 · 7 years ago

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ALBUQUERQUE, N.M. | Hundreds mourn New Mexico woman killed in Southwest flight

New Post has been published on https://goo.gl/mWGZkz

ALBUQUERQUE, N.M. | Hundreds mourn New Mexico woman killed in Southwest flight

ALBUQUERQUE, N.M. | April 22, 2018 (AP)(STL.News)Family and friends gathered Sunday to mourn an Albuquerque bank executive who died after the Southwest Airlines plane she was on blew an engine in midair.

Nearly a thousand people attended the evening service for Jennifer Riordan, 43, the Albuquerque Journal reported . The service was held at Popejoy Hall on the University of New Mexico campus, her alma mater.

“We appreciate the outpouring of support from the community. It truly touches our hearts,” the Riordan family wrote in a statement. “We know there are many in the community who want to celebrate Jennifer.”

Lt. Gov. John Sanchez presented Michael Riordan with a flag that was flown at half-staff at New Mexico’s Capitol in Jennifer Riordan’s memory.

“She was considered a friend, colleague, and pillar of the community and will be forever missed,” Sanchez said.

The community leader and mother of two had been heading home from a business trip Tuesday on a flight from New York‘s LaGuardia Airport bound for Dallas.

Early in the flight as the plane was at 32,000 feet (9,754 meters), one of its twin engines suddenly exploded. The impact showered the jet with debris and shattered the window next to Riordan.

Authorities said Riordan was fatally injured when she was sucked partway through the window, sending passengers scrambling to help her as the aircraft shook violently and went into a rapid descent. The plane made an emergency landing in Philadelphia. Riordan was the only one of the 149 people on board who suffered fatal injuries.

The National Transportation Safety Board believes one of the engine fan blades snapped.

Riordan was well known in the Albuquerque area for an established career in community engagement and volunteerism. She served as vice president of community relations for Wells Fargo’s New Mexico operations. She oversaw the company’s corporate giving program in New Mexico and volunteered her time with a number of area nonprofit groups and boards.

“She was the face of giving. If you were an idea or a dream that needed a little help, she was your gal. Her currency was compassion,” said Albuquerque poet laureate Hakim Bellamy, who read an original poem at the memorial. “The kind of kindness that folds like a hug like a laugh like her wings before she was so close to heaven that the angles recognized her and plucked her from the sky.”

Jennifer Riordan graduated from the University of New Mexico with a communications degree in 1999 and previously worked as the media relations manager at UNM Hospital.

Jennifer Riordan and her husband, Michael Riordan, a former chief operating officer for the city of Albuquerque, were married for more than 20 years.

___

By Associated Press – published on STL.News by St. Louis Media, LLC (Z.S)

___

#Albuerque #Hundreds mourn #University of New Mexico campus

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psotu17 · 8 years ago

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Burque Black

On belonging…I’m a black male in NM. As of 2010 Census NM had a 2% black population. And I feel like I belong here. When I became Poet Laureate of Albuquerque – my hometown newspaper in Jersey called me for an interview. This story ended up on the front page in my hometown, “What do you write about as the Poet Laureate of Albuquerque?” I write about race, my experience as a black man, my observations, and people listen and they show up for it. People here are curious, they are willing to hear about experiences and journeys that are not theirs. And that feels like belonging. Where my experience is validated, but not a spectacle. Belonging in a different way than I felt when I visited South Africa – where I walked down the street and there were black people everywhere. Even the literal white bread “Wonder” truck had a Black family on it. Everyone on TV is black. That is a type of belonging that was foreign to me, even having grown up in Philadelphia and South Jersey. I was in South Africa like, “This must be what white people feel like in the US.” But coming home back to NM – I feel a different connection and deep space of belonging.

Hakim Bellamy

www.hakimbe.com

www.beyondpoetryink.com

#PSOTU2017 #submission #albuquerque #newmexico #africanamerican #poetry #racism #belonging #international

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lastday-firstday · 3 years ago

Photo

LAST DAY by Hakim Bellamy

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abqartworkers · 4 years ago

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Oct 19 Open Letter Re: Race, History & Healing Project

October 19, 2020

Mayor Tim Keller Director of Cultural Services Shelle Van Etten de Sanchez Deputy Director of Cultural Services Hakim Bellamy Public Art Urban Enhancement Division Manager Sherri Brueggemann

Dear Mayor Keller,

We hope this message finds you and your loved ones safe and healthy. We are members of the ABQ Art Workers collective working for racial and cultural equity within the Albuquerque arts and cultural spheres. We are writing with regard to several concerns about the City’s actions and communications related to the Race, History & Healing Project and its response following the events surrounding the La Jornada monument.

Regarding the RHH Project, some of our members have participated directly in RHH sessions and have witnessed problems with lack of transparency, organization, and overall mishandling. Those concerns have been outlined in a letter sent to your offices on October 9, 2020. With this letter, we are bringing to your attention several troubling issues regarding the language and representation of the RHH Project, specifically on the project webpage at https://www.cabq.gov/culturalservices/race-history-and-healing-project

1. The image chosen for this website and the community survey site is an image from the La Jornada monument. If this monument (and all of its components) is the very source of the violence and discord that has taken place, why was this image selected as a representation of the RHH Project? It seems to us both tone deaf and actively re-traumatizing to the communities who have grave objections to this monument in its entirety. As you are aware, the monument is a representation of conquistadors and settlers entering what is now New Mexico: the colonizers enslaved Indigenous people and forced them to pay taxes and tribute to the Spanish crown. This led to revolt by the Acoma people, to which Oñate and his men responded by attempting genocide: they tried to destroy the Acoma village, leaving only 200 survivors out of the 2,000 villagers. Oñate ordered one foot of 24 Acoma men to be cut off, and he committed other atrocities that led even the Spanish crown to charge him with cruelty and excessive force. We cannot help but wonder if the selection of the image was related to the sculptural representation of the “Native American woman” and thus intended as a nod to some distorted notion of balanced representation. If this was the intention, we find it extremely condescending and insulting, not just to Indigenous groups calling for the removal of this monument, but to all who are interested observers and active participants in the RHH Project; in fact, it is an affront to all residents of this city who are the intended audience and who are tax-paying individuals supporting this project.

2. In watching a video recently published on the same webpage entitled “What is a monument,” we found the language and representation here to be extremely problematic and disturbing as a reflection of the city’s approach to the RHH. The video describes La Jornada as such: “The artwork was intended to honor the founding families who entered the lands of the now-American Southwest from Mexico.”

Firstly, calling the settlers “founding families” already negates any supposed neutrality of the city’s position–no matter what the presumed intention behind the work was. This term is an insult to the Indigenous people who are the original inhabitants of this land and an insult to the Indigenous communities engaged in the RHH Project process.

Secondly, the video’s statement regarding Oñate’s entrance from Mexico is misleading. “Mexico” did not exist as a political entity during the late sixteenth and seventeenth century, the period being represented: the colonizers came from New Spain. This is an important distinction to make, so that your audience understands that Oñate and the conquistadors came in the name of the Spanish crown as part of a proselytizing, extractionist, and white supremacist project.

The above concerns may seem like minor issues of language. However, so much of the discord and conflict we have witnessed are due to a long tradition of misrepresentation of the historical record, from our school textbooks to public monuments and official representations. The City should be held to a high standard in all cases of historical representation, and especially this one. If the word “History” is to be included in the Race, History & Healing Project, we would expect the historical record to be communicated accurately.

Your website states: “The Race, History & Healing Project supports community-centered dialogue and input to inform community-led recommendations for the Oñate statue and La Jornada public art installation…” Indeed, our city has the opportunity to follow through on these admirable goals and to actually work to find “thoughtful solutions for difficult and complex issues.” We applaud the City’s commitment to the important work of equity and inclusion in partnership with the community. However, if the language used in the RHH is an indication of the theories and approaches grounding the project, we fear that it is bound to fail in achieving its goals. We strongly suggest that all city representatives involved in the RHH sit down for more meaningful dialogue with community members around anti-racism and anti-oppression. There are many community organizers in our city who can be valuable resources, starting with Kiran Katira and Diana Dorn-Jones with the People’s Institute for Survival and Beyond.

With the national uprising surrounding monuments and systemic racism in this country, we are witnessing a mass movement for accountability and dismantling of white supremacy within institutions at all levels of our society. It may sound surprising, but one can draw a direct line from the violent oppression of Oñate and the conquistadors to ongoing police brutality and carceral systems of the present day. Both represent agents of the state working to uphold white supremacist values whose goals are to supress Black, Indigenous, and people of color.

We thank you for your time and service to our city. We look forward to hearing your response to our concerns.

Sincerely,

ABQ Art Workers: Szu-Han Ho, Albuquerque, New Mexico Autumn Chacon, Albuquerque, New Mexico Scott Williams, Albuquerque, New Mexico Nanibah Chacon, Albuquerque, New Mexico

#onealbuquerque #landback #decolonize #BIPOCartists

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