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One day, he showed up to the building and the city just painted over the murals without permission or notice.

First, the city told him he couldn’t have graffiti art on HIS building because it brought down property value. After he complained, then they said: ok you can do this, but you need a permit. After he got the permit, then the city said: ok, but you can only use these artists.  Of course, these artists were all White graphic design students from USC, and of course they charged 3x more.

Sidney Harold Meteyard (1868-1947)

Не смотря на то, что мне сегодня на 3 пару, я уже в колледже. Готовлюсь к английскому, потому что если бы я осталась дома до 3 пары - я бы спала, а так… учусь, ну и посты вам пишу)

Ugandan model Kiara Kabukuru in an editorial for Elle (US) in June 1994 titled ‘Field Of Dreams’ and photographed by Gilles Bensimon in Marrakech, Morocco.

This is one of my most favourite fashion editorials as rarely do we see these carefree ‘shoots involving dark-skinned black women, and whenever Western magazines shoot in foreign locations involving local subjects in the 'shoot, they are often merely used as agent-less props which is not the case in this spread.

There’s also the inclusion of Africans of different hues in an African location, which I love. 

Now open, Soul of a Nation: Art in the Age of Black Power presents the complex work of Black artists who—at a time of dizzying political, social, and aesthetic revolution—produced some of the most innovative and electric art of the 20th century. See it now through Feb 3. And, don’t forgot to grab your tickets for tomorrow’s horn-infused dance party with Soul in the Horn! Dance to hits from the 1960-80’s, enjoy a special after hours viewing of Soul of a Nation, and have your portrait taken by Paper Monday. 

It takes me a whole minute to gather up the courage to get into the water. Even-though time is of the essence, I can’t seem to shake the feeling that all of this is a waste. I don’t trust them with my own life so how am I supposed to trust them with his? Trees cower in the face of the murky water and I bristle once nothing but ice pierces through my skin. My hands fumble around Kai’s corpse, making sure he doesn’t slip through my grasp and drop into the caliginous pond like a stone. He wouldn’t even scream, not anymore.

I take one last shaky breath before submerging my feet fully into the water. What if this is all some grandmother’s tale? You can’t go back now - but what’s the point of even going forward? There’s nothing there.

I can’t help but flinch with every step I take. The feeling of pinpricks spasm through my legs but I hear nothing but the sound of Kai’s slowing hearbeat. It’s so loud. I force myself to truly look at where we are, commiting every tree and it’s tree branch to memory. Trying to at least, since I know they’ll try and take that away from me soon. Observing the trees nearby distracts me from the issue at hand, nearly. How can I know for sure they’ve fixed him if I won’t even remember what happened? How can I save him if they take him away? How can I prove our innocence if he’s gone?

My hands tighten on his side and I use his solid presence to centre myself, it doesn’t work. Slowly, my eyelids flutter as I stand stoic in the middle of the lake, clothes drenched in turpid water. I feel my shirt cling onto my chest and try to avoid thinking about how cold Kai must be. I’m glad he doesn’t shiver. I do, although I don’t think it’s from the cold. In through the nose, out through the mouth. In through the nose, out through th-

The noise scares me more than the thing itself, latching onto my thigh and screeching as though it’s lungs are being clawed from its chest. I hear Kai whimper slightly and it takes all of my restraint to not weep there and then at the sound. Looking at the thing stops me from doing so, and in a strange way I’m grateful for the fright. It stops me from thinking too much.

He’s dying, he’s dying. he’s dying.

Veiled and hunched over, the thing lifts its head and glares at me. I can tell since the holes in the fabric covering it’s face show it’s eyes, and surprisingly they’re not terrifying. With eyes as green as the trees circling around us, they no longer cower in the waters light. They rejoice at the sight of it, the Urchin.

I hate it already.

(yes i used the same photo, it’s the same chapter scene so i thought it might make more sense to use it uh oh) ((another 2am adventure))