Archive for January, 2009

Now is the time when many parents consider where their students will be going next fall. It’s private school admissions season, and for many charter schools it’s admissions season as well. We thought a report on the breadth of charter schools across the city of Fort Worth might be of interest at this point, and in the future, so here it goes.

A quick definition: a charter school is one which receives funding from tax dollars, but has a special purpose and curriculum designed to address a specific need. They do not charge tuition.

Note: the “Great Schools” rating comes from the website of the same name, and is concerned primarily with students’ test scores.  Some schools do not come up on GreatSchools’ website, perhaps because charter schools tend to come in and leave operation more rapidly than other institutions, and thus may not have been reporting scores last year. 

Chapel Hill Academy  4640 Sycamore School Rd, Fort Worth, 76133 Phone: 817-255-259

Designed for children who learn differently. Current enrollment 134; Grades enrolling for next year will be PK-2; Enrollment deadline for next year TBD. Call for more information.

East Fort Worth Montessori Academy  501 Oakland Blvd, Fort Worth, TX 76103  (817) 496-3003

Montessori method elementary school.  Grades included: pre-K to 5th;  Current enrollment: about 250; Admissions applications for fall 2009 — Feb 11 to March 31, 2009   GreatSchool’s ranking – 6/10

Fort Worth Academy of Fine Arts 3901 S Hulen St, Fort Worth, TX 76109  (817)924-1482

Academic education along with two hours instruction per day in the fine arts.  Grades included: 3-12; Current enrollment: 385, school is undergoing a building campaign and hopes to expand to 600 students in the next couple of years. Application period for Fall 2009 from Jan. 20 through Feb. 27,  includes a merit-judged performance audition.  GreatSchool’s ranking  – 8/10

Fort Worth Can! Academy Campus Drive 4301 Campus Dr. Fort Worth, Texas 76119 817-431-4226

and Fort Worth Can! Academy- River Oaks Campus 5508 Black Oak Lane, Fort Worth, TX 76114, 817-735-1515

Both schools are part of a Texas-wide network of continuation high schools focused on helping at-risk youth ages 14-21 finish high school.  GreatSchool’s Academic test scores result 2/10

Harmony Science Academy – Fort Worth  5651 Westcreek Dr, Fort Worth, TX 76133 (817) 263-0700

School focuses on math and sciences, and is part of a network of Harmony Science Academies across Texas. Grades included: K-12;  Current enrollment: 400  Deadline to apply for fall will be in March. GreatSchool’s ranking  – 9/10

Pinnacle Academy of Fine Arts  6550 Camp Bowie Blvd Ste 110, Fort Worth, TX 76107  (817) 735-8527

Includes fine arts curriculum in a small school environment, part of a statewide group of schools. Grades served  K- 9 Enrollment 170 students.  GreatSchool’s ranking – 3/10 

North Texas Elementary School of the Arts  2900 Briarhaven RD ~ Fort Worth TX 76109 (817) 732-8372

Fine arts-focussed charter school admits students in grades K-6. Currently 155 students. Application deadline is February 13; . Next tour January 27th at 10 a.m., or call for next date.  GreatSchool’s ranking  – 7/10

Premier High School of Fort Worth 6411 Camp Bowie #B Ft. Worth, TX 76116 Phone: (817) 731-2028

Part of the largest network of  Texas charter schools, designed to help struggling students with individualized curriculum and uses “character first” core value system.  Grades included: 6-12;  Current enrollment: 160; Enrollment: rolling admissions.

Richard Milburn Academy – Ft. Worth 6785 Camp Bowie Blvd. • (817) 731-7627

Part of a network of Texas charter schools, seeks to provide an alterantive learning environment leading to a high school diploma for students who experience difficulty in traditional classrooms. GreatSchool’s ranking  – 1/10

Having a January birthday can sometimes seem like a bummer. After all, who wants to celebrate a birthday when everyone’s tired of celebrations because of Christmas? The cold air of January does not, generally, seem like a festive time. Winter is soundly here and it’s not leaving any time  soon. In January, the window panes are cold, the heater is generally on and before you step outside the door, you check the thermometer to see how many warm things you need to put on.  Not exactly party weather.  And besides, there is a point when you don’t believe a new birthday is going to bring anything good at all. Are there actually any new experiences for someone like myself?

So last night, I decided to go to work substitute teaching on my birthday.  I wouldn’t expect anything good; I would just hope to have a decent normal work day. Around noon, I looked out and saw a flash of red. I went to the window and watched the red blur jump about the branches of a leafless tree then stop so I could see the bright back feathers, black crest and yellow beak.  Could it be? Yes, it was a cardinal. 

The ancient Romans were always observing birds and conjecturing things from their movements  but I never used to even notice birds. Their flights and landings seemed positively inconsequential – what did it matter? I was like the movie character, high school senior Ferris Bueller, who said of European socialism,

“What do I care? I’m not European, I don’t care if they’re socialists, and none of this is going to do anything about the fact that I don’t have a car.”

Somehow the sight of the bird does seem important to me now, today.  I wonder if I saw him because of a change in my perspective that comes with maturity (those older than me probably don’t consider me “mature” at all, I am 43.) Perhaps I am  going into a new phase of life-awareness.  I certainly remember my grandmother’s obsession with birds, the setting up of bird feeders, and the lists of birds seen.

The quiet thrill I felt at the flash of red did gave me the feeling of being in on a secret. And I admit, more and more I understand things that used to baffle me. I see things about people I never would have figured out when I was in my 20′s. I walked away from the window, hoping that the cardinal on my birthday was a good sign, and not some random occurrence. I faced  the class, and got back to work, deciding to take a page from the Roman’s taking of signs from the movement of birds. The cardinal, I tell myself, is a good sign. It’s telling me to take heart and enjoy the world, that there are new things to do and learn, and a birthday is something to celebrate, whether you’re 1 or 99.  

Though the fact that this plane is bouncing about as it hangs in the sky does not make me feel too secure, I must admit I fear fear more than anything in the world. I have what is called “agoraphobia,” a byproduct of panic disorder, which means I avoid and get scared in places I have had panic before – whether the area is of any danger at all.

I get scared even in a safe place like this, five miles into the sky, as I sit, a sardine with just enough room to bounce and jiggle in “turbulence.” What is turbulence anyways? Why doesn’t the pilot say “nothing to worry about, folks, just some ‘whatever the heck is going on.’” Nope, we just hear “Please fasten your seatbelts.” This order is easy to follow; no need for worry!  After all, as I have been told umpteen times, “flying is the safest way to travel.” 

How hanging out in an oversized tin can above the clouds, going Lord knows how fast, can be safe, I don’t know. Anyway, to people with my problem, the assumption is that any stimuli that feels dangerous is dangerous. A bump in the night, which is most likely the dog, or a creak on the stairs, or your brother getting water, is an intruder; a simple cold is peneumonia or some weird harbinger of cancer, and yes, turbulence on the airplane is a sure sign we are about the plummet those 35,000 feet they always boast about once the plane is level.

Why do they always tell you how far up are are? Please explain.  So you can go home and say, “Hey Mom, I was five miles above terra firma today!” When  she investigates further to find out this trip involved breathing stale air, being shuttled about like cattle, etcetera, she is bound to be disappointed by the dullness of the experience.

When they say 35,000 feet,  I just start calculating how much time I’ll have to say the Act of Contrition and dedicate myself to God, grip my scapular, and have faith to end all faith, before we hit rock bottom, which if it happens right now, from looking out the window, would be in west Texas. Oh Lord, please don’t let me die here.

I find myself thinking that phrase often. “Not here, God, so far from home.” “Not in West Texas.”  “Not today – I have a test tomorrow.” You see how it goes. For someone such as myself, every day presents new doom and chances to end my poor life – and I’m so young! I haven’t even started my second semester of college yet! Which brings me to my favorite: “Please God, not yet. I haven’t lived yet! I’m not a doctor, I haven’t found the love of my life, I need to see Rome at least one more time! Please, passing in sleep at an age I wouldn’t feel like counting to would be so much more appropriate.”

Of course, here comes the other main force of my life: guilt. How could I complain so, be so self-righteous, when nice young people die all the time? And also, there is that guilt about smaller things: did I just get a plastic bag, instead of using a more environmentally-friendly tote, to lug home my milk? Did I skip a night of yoga? Did I watch too many movies? Forget to call my mother? I still haven’t signed up at the gym, started to go to daily Mass – don’t even say the rosary every day for crying out loud. Could I have recycled that canister I just chucked in a black trash bag? Am I not going to finish that food there are starving children in Africa for goodness sake.*

But back to fear, or rather, palm-sweating, overwhelming, sickening dread that comes with imminent doom that I am so familiar with.  It doesn’t actually put things in better perspective. Of all the people of the world I clearly lack perspective the most, at least in matters of fear.

There are drugs you can take that make it somewhat bearable, but I don’t want to become a drug addict! Desire to hide under bed a’la three year old also gets a negative vote. I can try to keep well hydrated  to counter all the palm sweating. I pray about this all right. “Please God, just let me get through this flight. Please. Come on. My perception is your reality, right, Big Man? You have control.”

And he’s looking down at this poor shmuck and thinking, “You are safe, can’t you tell? What do you think I invented the FAA for? How about pre-flight checks? The scientific method? You’re fine!’

“Yeah….see, I know that, just tell it to my legs, they keep shaking, and the cold sweat, and the difficulty moving. My palms have sweated so much I could water  one of those yellow fields we keep passing over. Come on, this bumpiness thing, it’s not cool.”

“My child” – and here he sighs – “I’d like you to rough it out. Builds character, puts hair on your chest. But, if you wish, I shall alter the atmosphere, disrupt up some ecysystem needlessly so your palms will be fine.” Eventually the bumping stops, and now we are about to start our descent, which is always not so bad because

• you are getting closer to the ground, always a plus, and
• it’s almost over, so even if the imminent doom feeling still lurks, in about thirty-five minutes you can give walk down the jetway, through the gate, slide through the revolving doors right there into the baggage claim, and, with a deep breath and a desire you wouldn’t share with *anyone* to kiss the ground, and finish up this hellish experience.Family faces will appear, hugs all around, then the drive home – at some point, I will see the Fort Worth skyline as I make the crest into Fort Worth while on the 121, and then, and only then, will I feel totally at ease. For when those buildings loom, I am home.

Ah, we are dropping through the clouds. The seatbest light is on again. End of flight, here we come. Also, me flipping off my laptop. Let us hope for calm landing. The tray table is going up. If you are reading this today, it shows that I have made it. Cheers!

*here I would like to take an aside and ask, unless the food scraps of a few limp pieces of lettuce, half a cucumber, and most of my serving of rice, could be redeemed for money to help those poor people, or even shipped over there, why should I care? Though I understand the need to appreciate our food, the whole starving child thing is a little ridiculous. Maybe everytime little Johnny doesn’t finish his lentils his mother can take away the fifteen cents  of his allowance to cover it and send it to “Feed a Child” or whatnot.

Terri Camp is no ordinary social media maven, and not just because she’s a home-working mom with seven kids in the house (an eighth grew up and got married.)  Camp does nothing by halves — her book, published by Multnomah Books  in 2000, was entitled “I’m going to be the greatest mom ever (even if it kills me). She started on Twitter  in November, 2008 and had over 1000 followers in just two weeks. Today she is one of Fort Worth’s top twitterers according to Twitter Grader. and was just named among the  Most Influential Women in Social Media by the Kat Logic Blog. We spoke with Terri by email and she shared some of her thoughts about Twitter from her home in Fort Worth, where she works as a writer and real estae agent (just sold a house this week, something she calls a “ta-dah moment.”) In her words:

Terri Camp is a mom, realtor, and writer.

How did you come up with your twitter handle, and the slogan ” ta-dah?”

I began using Ta-Dah Mom about a year ago when I came up with an idea to help moms become positive coaches for their children. I implemented the program in my own house and it transformed our home. Basically it’s a celebration of life and those we love. If I come in from a long day and I look tired and drained, one of my kids will invariably come up and say, “You need a ta-dah!” She will then throw her arms up in the air and say, “Ta-Dah!” I like to pass out random Ta-Dah’s in Twitter. As I read the twitter streams, I will see posts that people are celebrating a birthday, a new business idea, new clients, or a baby that slept through the night. I will then send a “Ta-Da” message in an @reply to the person. I’ve been getting a lot of really positive feedback from people who tell me I make them smile, encourage them, or even that my positive energy is so contagious they are finding themselves happier. What an awesome compliment!

How did you enact your rapid-fire start in Twitter?

I began by reading profiles of people posting. Then I followed the ones who looked most interesting. I looked at the followers of people who had a lot of followers, and began following those people. I joined a group and received a lot of followers through that.

The most important way to get followers though is to have a good picture. Throughout the holidays I was a Rudolph complete with antlers and a red nose. Your picture makes a huge impression on those reading your tweets. They get to know you through your picture, so I made sure my picture reflected my personality. And write a good bio. This isn’t the time to claim expert status, but the time to be real and genuine.

Next begin making good posts. Look at it like adding content to a blog before you ever have one reader. Engage with others. Read the tweets and reply to the people. I created a twitwall with a post called “tweets you can expect from me.” When someone follows me, I send them a nice message and a link to my twitwall. I also include a link to my blog post, How I Got 1000 Followers on Twitter in Two Weeks.  I still feel like a newbie as I’ve only been twittering since mid November. I now have over 2600 followers and follow a little more than that. 

What applications or programs do you use for tweeting? 

I use tweetdeck and tweetchat. 

What are your favorite topics to tweet about?

I mostly tweet about real estate in the DFW area, particularly Fort Worth/Keller/Southlake, “mom topics,” and being positive. I try to make my tweets count, to give a lift to someone or encourage them in some way.

Do you think being a mom has helped you succeed in business? Why and how?

I’m a single mom with 7 kids at home. The children are extremely helpful to my success and I try to include them whenever I can. They each have unique gifts, love to see me living my passion and often encourage me to write. The other day I mentioned I was working on a new e-book. My twelve year-old daughter said, “Oh, I’m so glad you are writing another book! You need to be encouraging moms! Are you going to write about all the miracles?” They are so incredibly supportive it’s amazing!

Twitter following:  2721 Followers:  2601

Website:  TerriCamp.com

Waffles are not difficult to make if you follow a few simple steps.

Waffles are not difficult to make if you follow the steps. You’ll need a waffle iron and either a mechanical egg beater or an electric mixer, but it’s easier and faster than making a cake.  I like to use a Belgian waffle iron but the recipe is the same no matter what shape you’re using.  The steps are as follows:

Preheat the waffle iron.

Place in sifter 3 cups all purpose flour, 1  1/2 tbsp baking powder and 1/2 tsp salt. Sift into bowl, make a well in center. Mix together 3 cups milk, 1/2 cup oil, and 3 egg yolks and pour into dry ingredients.  Mix until almost smooth.

Egg whites have been beaten to stiff peaks by mechanical egg beater.

Now take the 3 egg whites and whip them with a hand-held or electric mixer. Fold the egg whites gently into the flour mixture.    

The batter is now prepared, but the battle is not over. You need to oil the waffle iron. You can use a cooking brush or a paper towel or paper napkin. Make sure you coat the entire iron including the crevices. If you do not, parts of the waffle will probably stick to the iron, and not only will you not have a beautiful waffle to eat, you have to spend time cleaning it up. If you oil the iron properly there will be no need to clean it afterwards.  

Now, assuming the iron has been heating for 5-10 minutes, pour the batter in. Do not fill the bottom half of the iron. Leave about 10% of the iron unfilled.

Don't fill the waffle iron all the way.

If you fill it all the way it will overflow and again there will be a big mess. It’s better to have a partial waffle than to see liquid batter pouring out the sides of the iron halfway through cooking. Trust me, I’ve done it both ways.

Now, assuming you’ve partially filled the iron with batter, let the lid down and watch it. It will steam as it cooks. When the steam slows down, you can open it. If you open it too early the waffle will split in half and you will have to clean it up. Of course, if you oiled the iron properly the mess won’t be too bad but still. My iron takes about 3 minutes to cook a waffle. Try not to check too early. 

Pull the waffle out with a fork and place on plate. Put butter on, if desired, immediately.  You can then add

Syrup

Maple syrup

Bananas, strawberries, blueberries or peaches and whipping cream, with or without syrup.

And enjoy!

When I was a kid, we used to make jokes about being “sent to Juvey. “ Juvey was Juvenile Hall, where you go if you’re in “real” trouble as opposed to just the garden variety trouble you get in when you’re a regular kid. Juvey involves the police. It’s just one step from jail. When I was a kid we lived in the suburbs, and they didn’t have courts in our town. You did anything serious you went to the county seat, Woodland. You were no longer in the charge of the school district, you were “in the system.”

Today I’ve had a chance to see the inside a school set up for when you’re expelled from regular school because you committed a felony. This school is locked. Each classroom has a second person sitting in with the teacher whose job is to keep discipline. Sort of like a bouncer. The kids wear uniforms. If their behavior is good, they wear a yellow belt. They sit down, they listen.

Today, on the first day back at school after Christmas break, the students can hardly keep their eyes open.  They’re almost all guys; I see only four girls all day. They live at home and they stayed up late last night, I am told. “Actually I never did go to bed,” one tenth grader tells me.  I ask if anyone went to bed before 4 a.m. No one says yes.

One has to admire their fortitude in showing up at school on zero hours of sleep. They apparently want to be here not because they like it but because  if they don’t come, it doesn’t count off on their “sentence.” Before they can go back to their home high school, they’ve got to count off a certain number of days, generally ordered by a judge. 

Classes are small, averaging 4 or 5 students. Some topics of conversation are gangs, movies, and when you are getting out. Making trouble means you’ll stay here longer; even refusal to do the work can get you lost points and delay your return “home” to your own high school.  

What are the issues for teachers here? The classrooms are under control, but the students are not, let us say, parituclarly engaged in their schoolwork. I am told academics are not make or break here. I try to teach the students but wind up feeling foolish for doing so, even though they show some interest. After all, is academic learning relevant in an environment like this? I see signs of intelligence in the work turned in. The students are  rather clever.  I ask them what they want out of life.

They want to be rich, and not be bored. They don’t see why they should go to school, what good will it do? I want to reach out to them, tell them I understand, but I have to be honest and admit to myself that I really don’t.

So muc h of what you learn in this life takes time to sink in. Perhaps the only thing they really have to learn here is willingness to control the impulse to disrupt, to refuse, and to rage. After this hyper-controlled environment, perhaps, there has to be some growth. We must wait and see. I’m reminded of a Bob Dylan song my dad sent to me once, “Walls of Red Wing” about the boys reform school in Minnesota,  and it seems to me that it must have been so much the same:

… some of us will wind up in Saint Cloud Prison,
And some of us will wind up being lawyers and things,
And some of us will wind up, and meet you at a crossroads,
From inside the walls, the walls of Red Wing.

Through February 15, 2009

The promo image that got me in the door.“Enter a hauntingly beautiful world of landscape and loss” (Amon Carter museum promotional material)

I knew I had to see this installation the first time I saw the poster, which showed a rural country in a rear view mirror. I’d seen that sight so many times while driving a pickup and pulling a horse trailer, before I moved from a small town to a city, so I ought to be able to appreciate this exhibit, a lament for the loss of rural life. It was with great anticipation that I walked up the stone steps of the Amon Carter museum and found my way to the second story, southeastern gallery, where the 5-video screen exhibit is playing on an 18-minute continuous thread.  

Video art, because it’s our current medium of choice (in TV and movies) and is so approachable, has a place in the modern fine art museum. The question of how to exploit that place, however, remains debated. Last week’s review of TCU’s Warhol exhibit talked about how Reineke Dijkstra’s video installation successfully engaged the question of portraiture and film to present an urban population on the margins. 

Mary Lucier is working with a different topic here, discussions of settlement patterns and western history. This conversation was already in full development back I was in grade school, when filmstrips and super-8 movies presented us with images of western farms, ranches and wild places and a voice-over discused information about the pioneers, the cowboys, and the sodbusters. 

The “Plains’” exhibit’s electronic soundtrack by longtime Lucier collaborator Earl Howard is haunting and lovely. The images or rural North Dakota, as they flicker past, bring to mind the experience of driving across a cold and rural landscape. The viewer experiences exploring an abandoned house, worn down by years, as the camera lingers over a potbellied stove, a broken trophy, a smashed piece of doll furniture, and rusting 50’s automobiles with shattered windows.  

Although I genuinely enjoyed the installation, especially the beautiful views of the grasslands, both close up and far away, I was troubled by a certain sinister mood; a sense of darkness pervaded even as the screens showed videotape filled with light. “A nagging strain of pessimism informs the work,” agreed the New York Observer when the installation was shown in that city from March 10 to April 28 2007. Does North Dakota deserve this?

Whether you think so might depend on whether you think the prairie country is really in danger because small farmers are moving off the land. Apparently, in North Dakota, the state has lost about 1% of its population over the last five years, and many people no longer live in the countryside. It’s not unlike the Texas panhandle. 

Lucier’s rhetoric seems to be “look how modern economies drive people off the land.” In her defense, that idea was not cooked up on her own; it was fed to her by award-winning North Dakota Museum of Art curator Laurel Reuter, who purchased several works on this theme with funding from the National Endowment for the Arts and who is a North Dakotan born and educated. I admit this gives her some moral authority to say what’s important and what’s happening in her home state. 

Nevertheless, I have to quibble with the exhibit’s theme and interpretation. There are some hopeful signs for land use in the state, for example, the development of a new National Park, Theodore Roosevelt, which is returning poor quality farm land to its natural splendor. Buffalo and wild horses are resurgent within the park’s boundaries. Is this really a loss? Can we perhaps be satisfied that North Dakota’s rural depopulation comes not from modern evils but from the revelation that not every hundred acres of land has a human carrying capacity?

The exhibit concludes with a video of a bull rider coming out of the chute to the strains of George Strait singing “I can still make Cheyenne.” The rider is thrown but his hand is stuck in the strap, and the bull sunfishes around attempting to stomp him while he dances and jumps under and over the crashing hooves until the clowns get to him. The rhetoric I take away from this is that the North Dakotan is a survivor in a rough country. And that’s fair enough. 

Why then does the image begin to split into mirror images of itself, distorted into a kaleidoscope of colors and shapes? According to Brooklyn Rail art writer Phong Bui, this part of the video is “pulsing with the overlappings and repetitions of the unfolding images right in the middle, it’s both sexy and psychedelic at the same time.” 

Believe me, there’s nothing psychedelic or sexy about depopulaton in rural regions, and the comment tells me Bui is concerned only with technique, not with theme. Perhaps the artist, who’s lived in New York since 1974, doesn’t see the contradiction between her theme and using technology to deconstruct it? 

Actually, that’s probably the point, and perhaps we are expected to infer that modern life strips the land of its culture and relevance.  I’m not willing to go along with that interpretation of the situation. By destructing the cowboy’s image with the video camera, Lucier ultimately suggests that her own medium, video and by extension, technology, is a part of the problem, a premise with which I disagree. But that’s a topic for another post. 

At the end of the 18 minutes, although I enjoyed the experience and would have been glad to watch again, I felt suspicious that the artist was a Big City Person, who has no real roots, even remembered ones, in rural life. Perhaps that’s the reason she appears to register only the surface view, not the bursting life of the land which predated us and will be still here when we as individuals and as a race are gone.

Hothouse tomatos are waiting at the Cowtown Farmer's Market

Every Saturday morning from 8 to around noon, you can go out on the 183 Traffic Circle and see a group of market stalls set up in a parking lot. If you want organic, locally produced or gourmet products, find them here. And support local business while you do.

Rubert and Nancy Crabb of Aduro Bean Micro-Roasters are  selling fair trade, single origin coffee , and they’re giving free samples of brews like their home-roasted Guatamala and Ethiopia Yergacheff. “We had a lady who managed a Starbucks come out here and take several bags,” Rupert said on a recent Saturday morning. A one-lb. bag off coffee roasted right in the neighborhood retails for $10.50. As a bonus, you get to talk to Rupert about his passions, which include music (he plays the banjo and accordion among other instruments) and Medieval studies. 

Hot Tamales Restaurant, regular location 469 N. Grants, in White Settlement, offers a free sample of their wares as well. It is impossible for me to say no, and then, I have to buy some to take home. You can buy a dozen tamales for $10 – just the thing to ward off that winter morning chill. On the day we visited, the choices were spicy pork and mild beef, made with cannolla oil, not lard. So you don’t have to feel too guilty.  

Market manager Klaus Zollner manages the Wildflower Soaps stand.  Goat milk and wildflower soaps are hand made and hand packed, scented with natural wildflowers.  It’s a labor of love and one he’s proud of, he says as he explains the weeks-long drying and packaging process. He sells a variety of products, including “Fizzies,” something I remember for childhood, the tablets you put into your bath to turn it into a fragrat spa. 

This farmer’s market is a non-profit organization with a board and a president.  Every product sold here has either been grown or at least manufactured within 150 miles. Besides the products listed above, you can score some fresh bread, goat milk cheese, hot house tomatos and “watermelon radishes.” At its height, the market has 22 vendors.  for information on what will be availalbe this week, call the “Fresh Line,” 817-468-1426 for a recorded message.

* * * 

Cowtown Farmer’s Market is located in west Fort Worth, south of Ridgmar Mall, on the southwest corner of the traffic circle at the junction of Highways 183, 377 and 80W, in the parking lot of Texas Outdoors. The address is 3821 Southwest Boulevard. 

1. We take the second amendment seriously here. Not  everyone here has a revolver, but  everyday Texans have guns. When the University of Texas sniper attack happened in 1966 not everyone hid; some returned fire. I like to say that if the U.S. is invaded, Texas will be the last stronghold.

2.Tying into number one, Texans are warriors. If you send your son or daughter to high school here, chances are someone they know will join the Marinesl. Joining the military is considered a common and honorable career path. 

3. In some other places, it’s very important to be good looking or know the right people, but Texans want to know what you can do. The countryside here can be a little harsh and barren, you need strong minds and strong backs to get oil out of the ground or cattle to market. 

4. We believe in God Almightly. This is not true down to a man, but it’s true in general. The Baptist church and Church of Christ have a stronghold here. 

5. “Remember the Alamo” is not something you’ll hear every day but  the story is emphazied in school and people educated here are not likely to forget it. 

5. Texans are patriotic about Texas. We say the pledge of allegiance to the United States in the schools in the morning, and then we follow up with a pledge to the Texas flag every school day. 

6. The Battle of San Jacinto was when Sam Houston drove General Santa Ana and the Mexican army out of Texas for good, in 1836. This resulted in the nine years of  government by the Texas Republic. The fact that Texas was once a sovereign nation is important here, and occassionally you hear someone  say that it should be sovereign again. 

7. Texas has been under six flags and the “Six Flags” amusement park chain is named after North Texas’ own theme park, “Six Flags Over Texas.”  The flags were: Spain, France, Mexico, Texas Repbublic, the Confederacy, and the United States of America — that last one on two separate occassions, before and after the Civil War.

8. There’s a lot of pride in being a native born Texan  but if you’re not, and you can do your job, the locals will quickly accept you. 

9. Texans do love the land of this state and it’s expansiveness and it’s loneliness can become part of what you care about. Texas is a beautiful country but you have to know where to look. The joy of finding vibrant beauty in the red sunsets  or in seeing the bluebonnets of the spring becomes more intense because they’re not here all the time. 

10. Texas has the best steaks anywhere in the world. We’re also know for manufacture of cowboy boots, saddles, being the home of the Quarter Horse breed, the Dallas Cowboys, Larry McMurtry, and having the highest oil crude oil production of any state including Alaska. 

11. Our flag is called the Lone Star. That symbolizes independence and freedom, and people are expected to stand alone, in as much as they can, in Texas. Don’t be looking for handouts unless you really can’t do for yourself. When that happens, Texans are generous. But they don’t cotton to malingerers.

Amon Carter Museum, through January 11, 2009
By Dean Cassella

Sentimental Journey chronicles a 1837 hunting expedition into the Colorado wilderness.

This is the last week to see these paintings, drawings and prints. The exhibit hails from a time when the United States ceased to be a precarious experiment in republican government, and instead seemed to be the harbinger of a new era in history.  Although many Americans wished then to emphasize their distinctiveness from Europe, the growing prosperity of the nation inevitably led to a desire to carve for itself a place in the international (i.e. European) art world.  American artists flocked to Europe, especially Paris and Rome, to study the great artisan traditions of their craft at first-hand, and also to work directly with the great stores of classical art that had accumulated over the centuries in those places.  At the same time, these New World artists did not simply wish to imitate slavishly the past, but rather to bring a distinctly American vision to the canon of Western art.  

The Amon Carter Museum is one of several places where one can see the vision of these artists in all its glory (others that come to mind are the Crocker Art Museum in Sacramento, CA   and the Chrysler Museum of Art in Norfolk, VA.  A later, Canadian, version of this movement can be found in the wonderful work of the “Group of Seven,” which can be found in abundance at the McMichael Canadian Art Collection in Kleinburg, Ontario, Canada.)

Alfred Jacob Miller was the artist commissioned in 1837 to accompany the Scottish Captain Willliam Drummond on a six-month hunting expedition into the western territories around Colorado.  At this time, Americans from the east were particularly fascinated by the Indians, whose traditional way of life was still a relatively unchanged by European influences. It was still necessary to have bilingual guides to communicate with them.

Miller’s job was to make a visual record of the expedition, as well as to produce art that catered to the tastes of the art buying public of the Eastern U.S. and Europe.  Captain Drummond’s personal interests were those of European aristocrats; accordingly, he was most keen on representations of Indians engaged in hunting, horseracing, and feasting.  An excellent example of this is Buffalo Hunt which depicts two Indians closing in on a buffalo.  Miller’s subtle use of red on the Indians’ sashes is picked up by the mouth of the buffalo—the viewer cannot tell whether the latter is the interior flesh of the mouth, or blood.

Some of the most interesting works in the exhibit are Miller’s field sketches.  My personal favorite depicts the artist himself, on horseback, in the process of sketching a wounded buffalo, while two assistants look on.  Bison, we are told, were very dangerous animals, and the best way to get a good sketch of one was to have hunters mortally wound it and make the sketch before it died.  One should keep in mind that Henry David Thoreau was unusual as a ‘naturalist’ by the nineteenth-century definition, because his version of ‘loving’ nature did not involve going into the woods and killing animals, in order to study them!

Many of Miller’s pictures have a humorous flavor, such as one depicting Lucien Fontenelle, the commander of Fort Laramie, being chased by a grizzly bear.  Captain Drummond himself had several run-ins with bears, one of which is depicted in a pen and ink drawing entitled Narrow Escape from a Grisley (sic) Bear near the Sources of the Platte River.  In the words of Drummond himself “If I’m as good as my gun, that’s a dead bear.”

There were many eccentric characters to be found in the region, many of whom are immortalized in Miller’s work.  Among these are the “bourgeois” of the Rockie Mountans, trapper Joseph Reddeford Walker, and Mahoma, Chief of the Snake Indians, who was an artist in his own right (and one of whose works Miller copied).

Finally, one is treated to several renditions of the Trapper’s Bride, the most recognizable painting from the expedition.  It could almost serve as a visualization of the Walt Whitman poem (and which, in fact, appears on the cover of the Oxford World Classics’ edition of Whitman’s Leaves of Grass) 

I saw the marriage of the trapper in the open air in the far west–the bride was a red girl;  Her father and his friends sat near, cross-legged and dumbly smoking

they had moccasins to their feet, and large thick blankets hanging from their shoulders;  

On a bank lounged the trapper–he was drest mostly in skins—his luxuriant beard and curls protected his neck —he held his bride by the hand;  

She had long eyelashes—her head was bare—her coarse straight locks descended upon her voluptuous limbs and reach’d to her feet.

One leaves the exhibit with a feeling of distance between us and the pioneers and trappers, and between our day and theirs, and yet at the same time a feeling of symmetry, because so much in human life is paralell with every other people in every other day. 

The exhibit runs only through next Sunday. Admission is free.