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...Sitting on a Rock, and the problem is obvious: cupcakes don't get much more scrumptious than this. Which is another way of saying that a whole line of mildly lubricious babes, from the phosphorescent nymphs in Maxfield Parrish to Tinkerbell and the Playboy bunny, owe something to the old man's influential wet dream of classical form. All the same, the Renoir of this period - three very productive decades before his death in 1919 at the age of 78 - fascinated some of the chief figures of modernism. Picasso was on board; his thick-limbed "neoclassical" women from the 1920s...
...understand the Renoir of "Renoir in the 20th Century," which runs in Los Angeles through May 9 then moves to the Philadelphia Museum of Art, you have to remember that before he became a semiclassicist, he was a consummate Impressionist. You need to picture him in 1874, 33 years old, painting side by side with Monet in Argenteuil, teasing out the new possibilities of sketchy brushwork to capture fleeting light as it fell across people and things in an indisputably modern world...
...Barry Mizen, whose 16-year-old son Jimmy was murdered in 2008, says his family endured months of personal attacks on a Facebook page that was created after Jimmy's killer, Jake Fahri, was convicted and sentenced to life in prison last March. "The words going back and forth were getting really nasty - it was just so undignified," says Mizen, who lives in southeast England. "My children were taking it very personally." Around the same time, taunting messages also started to come from Fahri's Twitter account, including one that said, "Jimmy Mizen was a pathetic loser." "There...
...interest really began when I was 14 years old and realized I was terrible at basketball, volleyball, and every other tall-person sport,” said the Economics concentrator, who stands at 5 feet 11 inches...
Yours truly here at 14P had a triple-hitter weekend: while a former (illustrious) chair was carried home, intoxicated and incapacitated, after a changing of the guard, newer contributors were busy greeting the old in the most scandalous of drunken attempts at lip-locking. Meanwhile, a certain business-oriented chap was frantically conveying his concerns over orientation to a future Cantabridgian, pita-wrapped Greek delicacy in hand all the while. For one special birthday bird, it was the thunder that was chocolate-flavored this year, not the cake, which was instead perfumed with the scent of intoxicating herbs...