The Raven Cycle as Headlines

The Gangsey: 7 Kids Taking Selfie on Central Park Pond Rescued After Falling Through Ice

Gansey: Brooklyn Man Tries to Avoid Shoveling Snow By Listing His Prius For $100

Ronan: ‘Stop The Wind From Blowing’: Caller to Niagara Falls Police

Adam: Man Rescued From Waist-Deep Frigid, Muddy Water in New Jersey Has No Idea How He Got There

Blue: Texas Snake’s Unusual Markings are Full On Hipster

Noah: Beaver Caught Plundering Charlotte Hall, Maryland, Dollar General Store

Henry: California Avalanche Buried Friends Alive, So They Took a Selfie

Chainsaw: Dog Crashes Car Into Wal-Mart After Owner Leaves AC On to Keep Them Cool

The Dream Pack: 'We Are Not Screwing Around’: Officials Pull the Plug on Dumpster Pools

Kavinsky: California Coyote Attacking Cars on Highway May Be High, Scientists Say

BONUS! Pynch: Two Faults ‘Holding Hands’ Could Unleash Massive Earthquake in California, Study Says


Faster, Cinnamon Roll, Kill, Kill!  (1/6) ~ Rupert Graves roles as…rolls? (1988, 1987, 1996 and 2005)

I haven’t done meme-themed RG thingies in a while ;)

reblog or link, please; no reposts to other sites, thank you

#Silver Fox Saturday

Happy birthday to Prudence Heward, close friend of the Beaver Hall Group and co-founder of the Canadian Group of Painters. At a time when women artists were rarely granted the same artistic status as men, Heward (1896 – 1947) was called “the very best painter we ever had in Canada” by A.Y. Jackson. She was renowned for depictions of strong female figures which had “brilliant acid colours, sculptural treatment, and an intense brooding quality”—though she also painted male studies, as in this portrait of her golf caddy.

(Prudence Heward, My Caddy, 1941, oil on canvas, 62.3 x 51.1 cm, Art Gallery of Ontario, Gift of the Heward Family, Montreal, 1950)

Kathleen Moir Morris

After “Grand Mass”, Berthier-en-Haut,1923 

“The 82-year-old woman, disabled since childhood, has left to posterity one of the finest testaments to the joy of Canadian life.

“I had a wonderful mother,” she said. “She would take me off on sketching trips and sit beside me while I painted. But on cold days I would go alone. I couldn’t walk miles, so I would be taken out to paint in a sleigh where I would be dropped off. The snow was so deep that the only place I could paint was in the tracks of the sleigh. I wore an old fur coat with an apron over it and a fur hat with earflaps. I was enough to frighten anything that came down the road.” She laughed, delighted with the retelling.

“When a sleigh did come along, I would have to move out of the tracks into snow up to here.” She leaned over and pointed to her thighs. “But do you know, I was never cold. It was so beautiful.”-1976