Artist brings influences from homeland to TCU

As a child growing up in Sri Lanka, DJ Perera, a junior studio art major, remembers developing a passion for drawing as he experimented with different color and hues in his children’s coloring books.

“I would use different color combination and experiment with different values,” Perera said. “ I was just picking up a crayon or several and coming up with something really colorful, and not just coloring books, but looking at covers of books and trying to replicate that tone or hue.

When Perera came to college at TCU, he noticed a difference in style between his work and that of his fellow classmates.

“My style is different only because I have grown up and been exposed to more cultural then my fellow classmates,” Perera said. “Back in the ancient days, art revolved around collecting leaves and the dyes of dirt and natural and using raw color.”

“We have a very colorful art history and I bring that into my paintings,” he added.
“ It is just more expressive more direct and more colorful.”

Perera noticed that his peers, mostly American, works consist of one subject or theme, where his is a collection of multiple themes – something he has adapted from Sri Lanka.

“It is more agriculture more of a storytelling narrative, that is the aspect of Sri Lanka I have taken,” Perera said. “I’ve taken that concept and modernized it using images more common to today.”

In addition to his use of images, Perera has also adapted the use of bold earth tones used him Sri Lankan artwork.

“My aim is to use color to make your eye travel all though and not able to focus in on one aspect,” Perera said.

In addition to utilizing paint as a distinct aspect, Perera’s work seems to focus on common elements, like death, that is represented in a very direct way, which is represented by a large white skull on the left side of his large two-canvas untitled work.

Perera said he does not sketch his ideas or deliberates what he will paint; instead he uses general themes and paint images to represent those themes such as death, passion or music.

His current piece, untitled, has been a work in progress for three days and will probably be finished with two or three more sessions.

Perera does not title his pieces because he believes it skews the viewers initial experience.

“The function of my paintings is for the color to make up the form and make up the paint, I do no want to restrict your interruption as a view to the title,” Perera said.

So how does an artist measure the success of a painting?

“For me, a successful painting is if the view cannot make out the composition, and if the viewer is directly engages in the painting by having to walk back and forth toward the painting,” Perera said. “For me, that is a message of success - if you get that type of interaction.”

For now, Perera says he will continue to be different and infusing his heritage and personal experiences into his developing style, but he might have to adapt his style to appeal to a wider audience.

“Somewhere along the line you’re going to have to comply with social norms and what’s happening and get into the world,” Perera said reluctantly. “That is something I’m not going to holy embrace, but in order to come to I guess it will be developing my style.”

“Different is better,” Perera stressed. "Different is unique. It is what sets you apart from the main stream.”

Police ride along

When I arrive at the Fort Worth central division police department at 7:30 p.m. sharp hardly anyone is there, the officer who let me in was the only one in the station.

About 7:45 officers start trickling in.

While the officers from c-shift come dragging in through the side door, officers from d-shift walk in fresh, talking about the Maverick’s game that is in the second quarter. This goes on for another 45 minutes until Sergeant Morris calls everyone together in the meeting room, six officers scattered around three 6-foot tables listen to Morris as he reminds them about suspects they are looking for and using their new tasers.

Sergeant Morris introduces me to my officer for the night Officer Zimperlman, in his second year on the force. He tells me he is going to get the car ready and he’ll be back in “a bit.”

As I sat down to watch the rest of the third quarter of the Maverick’s game, Sergeant Morris tells me the bullet proof vest he told me earlier to bring an extra shirt for is already in use.

“Don’t worry, I haven’t had a ride a long die yet,” he says calmly. “If shit goes down just hide behind Zimperlman,” he added with a smile.

While I wasn’t scared per say that added level of security would have been nice to have.

Forty five minutes later, Zimperlman walks up to me – shot gun in hand – “you ready to go,” he asked me. I said I was, thinking to myself, “where are we going that he needs a shotgun. What have I gotten myself into,” I laugh to myself.

We walk to his car and almost immediately after he turns on the car, the swiveling computer screen bolted on the dash between the seats blinks – a new message has been sent to B16 – Zimperlman’s car ID; a domestic disturbance call, somewhat routine, located in the Travis Garden apartments on 2901 Travis Avenue.

We get out of the car and another police car meets us at the entrance, Officer Guadarrama gets out of the car and both officers pull their flashlights. As we enter the courtyard, we’re looking for the playground.

We get there and find nothing.

We go up to the second floor, and see a woman on the other side of the walkway – probably about 40 yards away.
“That’s her,” says Zimperlman. “Are you Jennifer,” asks Zimperlman.
She nodes, and as we get closer it becomes clear to me by her stumbling around that she’s the one we’re looking for. Besides a little on the drunk side, she’s bruised on the side of her face and has peed her pants.
As Guadarrama notices a man by the playground he tells him to freeze and stay where he is. Both officers take the two down to the playground and start a parade of questions.
“Why did you pee your pants?” “Are you drunk,” they ask already knowing the questions.
The man says, no, which doesn’t get him very far. As both officers whip out their handcuffs arresting them for public intoxication, Jennifer says for the first of many times, “What did I do? I don’t have any convictions. You can’t arrest me officer.”

After our new found friends get comfortable in the back of the police car, the paperwork starts.

“What’s your social,” Zimperlman asks Jennifer. She doesn’t remember. “That’s OK, I can look it up,” he says with a smirk.

Twenty five minutes of punching in personal information later, we’re ready to go.

By now Zimperlman’s name has changed from “officer” to “bitch,” according to Jenifer.

As he punches in the final bit of information into the computer, he asks her what she thinks of me. “He’s a bitch too,” she says.

He asks me how that makes me feel. I tell him my feelings are deeply hurt, he smiles.

Amidst Jennifer shouting expletives, Officer Guadarrama, who has pulled up beside us, shows us the latest video update of the Mav’s game from his cell phone, tuning out the remarks from both Jennifer and the man in the back of Guadarrama car.

As we make our way to the county jail on 350 W Belknap Street, he tells her that he’ll let her go if she can tell him the answer to life, the universe and everything.

She tries but ultimately fails.

“I don’t know what I would have done if she actually gotten the answer right,” he tells me with a smile. “It’s hasn’t happened yet.”

When we get to the jail the paper work really starts.

In a pail blue colored room lined with cinderblocks and four dusty Dell computer desktops; Zimperlman and Guadarrama spend the next 30 minutes filing out paperwork on the computer screen.

“This is the thing CSI leaves out,” Zimperlman says to me with a groan. “They should make a show called CSI Administrative report,” he jokes. “Probably wouldn’t do well.”

After finishing the reports, we walked back to the car. “How about getting some food at Perrotti's”, Guadarrama asks. “Sure,” Zimperlman replies.

On our way to get food I ask Zimperlman about his fellow officers and how they have a little fun with the people they arrest.
“You can’t take things personally,” he says. He tells me he does it to lighten the mode – for him at least. After a short 10 minutes drive, we arrive at Perrotti's Pizza.
“We’re technically not supposed to eat before we take our 4-6” – code of a meal break, Zimperlman says. “Right now we’re ‘off sheet’ but Morris says ten hours is too long to go without possibly eating.”

We’re stopping now because if they wait like their supposed to, they could get pulled out of their 4-6 by a receiving any type of call from dispatch.

I notice, besides having an acronym for almost everything, that police officers are really good at multitasking – as Zimperlman eats dinner one ear seems to be tuned into the movie “Highlander”, playing on the TV, and the other listens to the almost constant chatter on the radio clipped to their shirt.

By now it is 11:15. As we head out, we get a call about a burglary on Henderson Street, which turns out to be nothing. But I will say one thing, walking around with two police officers with their pistols drawn at night can be an intimidating experience.

You start to feel really helpless and out of place.

“You have to be prepared for anything,” Zimperlman said. “The professional bunglers won’t carry a gun because they don’t plan on being caught; besides it ups the charges if they do.”

“The other people, you’re little punks, their main goal is to not go to jail and they’ll do anything to stop you from taking them to jail,” Zimperlman said. “So you just have to be prepared for anything.”

A few minutes later, we get another call – a stalker – we drive to the Hulen Place Apartments, an older woman – about 50 – walks up to the car and tells us about her daughter whose boyfriend has cut off her power and is trying to break into her apartment.

The lady is telling us everything except where her daughter’s apartment complex is, getting impatient Zimperlman asks in a stern – almost irritated voice – “where is your daughter’s apartment?”

The women tells us and we take off toward Hulen Street, going over 60 mile per hour.
As we get to the Orion at Oak Hills apartment, we slow down to 40 mph as we try to find the woman’s apartment.

Even at 40 mph, to your normal person that’s bordering on suicide as you zoom past the close quarters terrain of the apartment complex- but Zimperlman’s eyes are fixed on numbers he doesn’t seem to notice me holding onto the handle above the door frame for dear life, my heart practically gagging me.

We finally find the apartment a woman – the daughter, about 30 years old - is out waiting for us. “He took off after he saw you,” she cries, pointing in the direction he flew.
“Which way did he go,” Zimperlman says hastily.

She points down the street but can’t tell us left or right.

“Get into the apartment, lock the door and don’t come out until I knock on your door”, Zimperlman said hurriedly.

Zimperlman presses down on the gas petal and the engine whines as we zoom through the apartment complex onto Hulen Street in search of a black Ford truck.

Head on a swivel, Zimperlman looks around the area, but finds nothing, I do what I can but feel pretty lost.

As we drive back to the woman’s apartment another officer meets us. As she interviews the woman’s Zimperlman and I travel around the back of her building in search of the breaker box. The box lock has been cut off and the breaker switch has been flipped.

We flip it back to restore the power. After talking with the women we learn that her recently ex-boyfriend used to work for the complex, is still friends with the management, and knows this complex like the back of his hand.

“Last time, he hid in one of the vacant apartments, he still has a set of keys,” the woman said crying. “He kept on calling my phone and ringing the door bell and then he cut off my power.”

When asked why her mother called the police and not her, she said she was worried about her boyfriend hearing the phone.

After looking up the boyfriend’s information on their computer, they start to go through their two inch thick law books to look up what exactly they can charge the boyfriend with.

“What can we hit this guy with”, the female officer asks. “If this is his first time charged it a misdemeanor”, Zimperlman relies. “If it’s more than once, it’s a third degree felony.”

After many discussions later about whether the boyfriend intentionally cut off her power and whether the act fits into the legal definition of “inconveniencing” the women, they filed a report charging him with stalking. Disappointed that we didn’t catch the guy, Zimperlman and I headed to the East side– the dangerous, drug and gang filled side of Fort Worth to see “some serious shit.”

I’ve calmed down and the adrenaline has worn off. I’m starting to realize the time is 2 a.m.
While driving down I-30 we get an e-mail telling us the boyfriend is back, but this time he’s heading to the Hulen Place apartments.

Zimperlman pulls one of those action movie u-turns and pushes his car to over 90 mph.
As we fly down the highway, Zimperlman is typing messages into his computer and receiving updates, occasionally looking up to see where his car is heading.

Heart pounding, adrenaline rushing again, I’m just glad no one is out on the road at two in the morning. So much for being tired.

When we arrive the daughter’s mom is outside on the phone.

“He’s coming here,” she mouths. “I’ve got him on the phone.” Zimperlman isn’t crazy about the idea of luring him back to the apartment complex, he’s worried things could get ugly.

We find a place to hide behind the women’s apartment building, and it’s about this time I start to really regret wearing a red t-shirt.

The truck pulled up and Zimperlman drew his pistol and told me to say behind him in case something happens.

As Zimperlman gets out of hiding to approach the boyfriend, he turns and sees Zimperlman; it looks like he is thinking about running, but the police car of the female officer pulls up – squashing that thought. After handcuffs are place on him, the boyfriend tells us that his ex-girlfriend was the one who was calling him and harassing him.

“Check my phone,” he says confidently.

The female officer takes his phone and finds 12 calls made to her in the last two hours and over 8 text messages sent.

Bad idea as the officers goes through the messages.

One reads “Can you tell me if you are seeing anyone. I just want to know. Tell me please.”

The officers ask him about the messages and still clams that she was the one calling him, this time, he says it was on his home phone, even though he has been away from his house outside Fort Worth all night.

After another lengthy legal discussion, the officers decide to hand him a class 3A felony charge, counting the boyfriend’s first visit to the house as his first charge and this as his second.

He’ll be transferred to the prison in Mansfield and later brought up on formal charges and could face 3-5 years in jail with a fine of up to $10,000.

As we wait for a wrecker to come take the boyfriends car to the impoundment lot, I discover a favorite pastime for police officers: video games.

“They took out all the video games from the car’s computer,” Zimperlman laughed.

Zimperlman, who claims he can beat minesweeper in 8 seconds, said when he is not given a call on a slow night, he turns to his little flash drive to get him through the shift. In the “games” folder is an emulator, a program that allows you to play video games, like Star Wars: Empire Strike Back for the Super Nintendo, on your computer.

Neither of us could figure out the right controls for the Star Wars game. I ended up starting over several times.

Our fun is interrupted by the weaker finally showing up, by now it’s about 5 in the morning. After the car is on the wrecker and on its way to the impoundment lot, Zimperlman takes me on a tour of “the hood” on the East side of Fort Worth near East Hattie St. and I-30 West.

To Zimperlman, a good night is one where his fellow officers get to go home at the end of their 7:30 p.m. – 6:00 a.m. shift and he gets to see his son get up for school.

As we made our way back to the station I realized that in roughly 10 hours I had learned more about this city then I had ever learned in the four years I have live here.

Even though I know about the drugs, gangs, violence and the crazy stalker people that come out at night, it is because of men and women like Zimperlman that allow me to lay my head down at night.

And for that I am grateful.

Physical trainer - Staff

The physical training office in the Recreational Center can be an intimidating place at first.

When you walk in you’re a greeted with a stand full of multicolored stretching bands, jump ropes, and colorful poster informing you that while the bottomless salsa bowl you had at Chili’s the night before contains zero grams of fat, just two tablespoon of guacamole contains eight grams of fat.

On the wall is a small sign that says “If you’re not sure whether you’re running or jogging, go faster.”

While people might think of physical trainers as drill sergeants and perceive a session with them similar to that of torture, personal trainer Justin Zavala couldn’t be farther from that stereotype.

Zavala, once a part-time fireman, said being a physical trainer allows him to do the two things he loves: train and teach.

When Zavala get a client, whither it’s a member of the community, staff or student, Zavala says his has a person-centered approach to training.

“I’m interested in is what peoples goals and what they like to do,” Zavala said. “There’s going to be some stuff that they don’t like.”

Although he has to push his clients to do something they may not want to do, Zavala said he is not like the trainers portrayed on television.

“I’m a lot less drill sergeant like,” Zavala said as he leaned back in his chair, his arms crossed behind his head. “I like to get feedback of what’s working and what’s not and try to do different programs to see what they are going to be motivated to do.”

One of Zavala’s main goals is educating the people he trains.

“I don’t want them to be dependent on me; I want them to be educated about different exercises and what they’re doing, like different heart rate zones they can be in when they are training for cardio.”

Zavala, who is a certified by the National Strength and Conditioning Association as well as the National Academy of Sports Medicine, said he has been gifted with a service mentality.

“[Training] is just something I’ve always been interested in and I like to help people.”

“I enjoy passing on knowledge to people and helping people grow and take care of themselves,” Zavala added.

English professor fishes for the American dream.

David Vanderwerken, a professor of 20th century American fiction for the English department, wants to reconnect with the world he goes out…fly fishing.

“I find it the best mind cleanser that there is, Vanderwerken said. “I have to get out of the city every so often and get into the woods.”

Vanderwerken said going fishing allows him to enjoy the natural world and match wits with a wild creature – even if it did come out of a hatchery.

“You can simply match your wits with the pea brain of a trout although the tout usually wins,”
Vanderwerken said as he laughed in his office chair by a landscape photo of New Zealand taken during one of his fishing trips to New Zealand.

While Vanderwerken has had finishing trips in many areas such as New Zealand, The Sierra mountains is northern California and British Colombia, the big trip, he says with a hint of anticipation is coming up.

Alaska.

“A trip of a lifetime,” Vanderwerken calls it.

On May 20, Vanderwerken and his wife will embark on a six day drive from their Fort Worth, Texas to Fairbanks, Alaska where they will visit until mid August.

The “to-do” list includes a trip to Denali National Park, taking in the mountains and scenery, spending a couple of days on the Kenai Peninsula and driving up to the Arctic Circle – just to say they did it.

Unlike his other trips, Vanderwerken said his is going to have to be more selective as to which fish he decides to keep and send back home because of the amount of time they are going to be staying in Alaska.

“I think we’ll be pretty much feasting up there, unless there is a way to ship some back,” Vanderwerken said. “It turns out that way that will be great, if it doesn’t we’ll then that’s the way it is.”

Vanderwerken said his fishing trips allow him to keep a fresh perspective on what it mean to be an American, something he brings to his course The American Dream, a class where he explores what it means to be an American and traces the evolution of the American dream from Benjamin Franklin to the present day.

Vanderwerken said he feels the trip is appropriate, considering the context of his class.

“I think this will be very valuable to go to what’s known as the last frontier,” Vanderwerken said.

Besides letting him recharge between teaching and researching, Vanderwerken said his fishing trips allow him to gain a fresh perspective on what it means to be an American and the evolution of the American dream.

“The whole idea of the TCU bubble or the academic bubble it’s true,” Vanderwerken said. “You do get out of touch with basic America and how it lives.”

“I feel I can stay somewhat connected to that but sharing an interest a lot of people share from very different walks of life,” Vanderwerken said. “It keeps my perspective straight.”

“I can’t wait,” Vanderwerken said about his upcoming trip. “It’s going to be an adventure.”

Easter egg hunting

On a cloudless crisp afternoon, about 600 children aging from a few months to 9 years old, wearing light coats and jackets, gathered to do battle on Sadler Lawn for the 15th Annual TCU Easter Egg Hunt sponsored by the TCU Young Alumni Chapter.

Bright blue, green, yellow, red and pink plastic eggs – which contrasted against the lush manicured green lawn - were their spoils, inside sweet treats and small toys awaited them.

Throughout Sadler Lawn, each age group were designated a specific area, and even though children could get their faces painted and photos taken with Mr. and Mrs. Easter Bunny, many were already lining the boundaries of their respective areas - focused on the task at hand.

Some, like Sydney Airheart, 4, and Abby Beard, 4, armed with large baskets – picked specifically for their optimal egg gathering capabilities - were already pointing to certain eggs and planning their routes to maximize their efficiency.

“We had to get bigger basket this year so we could get all the Easter eggs,” four-year-old Abby Beard said with a smile.
As the countdown began, children edged their feet over the yellow caution tape that bordered their arena and honed in on their first targets.

While large speakers on the steps of Sadler played Frank Sinatra's “Easter Parade” the voice finished
the countdown and at the word “go”
chaos ensued.

While some children went for any colored egg, others seemed to execute a very methodical plan.

In about 50 seconds, the 4-6 area, which was once a brightly dotted lawn, was picked clean - leaving behind only pieces of purple plastic basket lining.

Immediately after filling their baskets, children sat down on the lawn with their parents
– some without regards to where their parents were -
to rummage through their new found treasures.

Among the assorted cadies, stretchy man and small yo-yo, five-year-old Olivia Loffland’s prized possession was a small pink sticky hand she said as she held it up and smiled with pride.

On the ground of Sadler lawn the battle of the Easter egg had been won.

A different perspective

After climbing up 175 aluminum ladder steps and diligently pacing yourself for about 10 minutes, you arrive at the top of what might be the most breathtaking view of the TCU campus.

High above the construction of Scharbauer Hall is the 140 foot tall blue and white colored construction crane Linbeck Construction uses to move objects as heavy as a forklift into place.

The crane boosts a boon about 160 feet in length that allows you to change your viewpoint of the campus. From this height, you see the campus in ways you never imagine.

After squeezing around the 6 foot high sky blue hydraulic engine that powers the steel cable, you notice the triangle flower patterns in front of Reed Hall and the mirroring of the landscaping of the adjacent water fountain across University Drive.

While on your way back to the crane operator house, you have to hold onto your highlighter yellow hard hat because the North Texas winds – even at 20 miles per hour - are noticeably stronger up here then on the ground.

Half way back you notice the congestion of student traffic in the courtyard between Reed Hall and Sadler Hall and make a mental note to yourself as you notice the one to two students walking on the other side of Sadler with no obstructions.

When you open the door to the crane operators housing the first thing that strikes you is the size of the operators work space. Barely wider then an office chair, the room is just big enough for one person to operate. You have to swivel the chair around and sit down before you can get to the main controls at the front of the housing.

The crane operator asks you if you would be interested in operating the crane so you can get a better view of the campus. This proves to be one of those dumb questions your grade school teacher tells you never exist.

Want to get a 360 degree view of the campus? From the operators chair all you have to do is take the joystick in your left hand which seems more like the joystick you would play pong on Atari with then the main control for a machine this size.

One click to the right, a small wine from the hydraulic engine behind you, and you are in business, slowly the crane creeps from pointing toward Sadler Hall to your target destination of the Campus Commons, at this rate the crane will rotate to your target location in about a minute.

One more click to the right and you will get there in half the time – now you are cooking with gas. As you near your ending location the operator tells you to click the controls back two clicks to the left – the engine stops - and the crane slowly drifts into place.

From the operators housing you cannot hear the sounds of the construction below you – all you hear is winning of the wind outside.

As the crane finally drifts to its final location, the full view of the Campus Commons comes into view and you are taken back by the view of both your new perspective and the silence around you.

As you look around your new vantage point you cannot help but smile as you realize this is a view few have ever experienced.

A change for the better

For 20 years, Dora Aquilera, now administrative assistant in the front office of the Recreation Center, was at the center of a high stress legal office in Fort Worth as a legal assistant for a lawyer doing real-estate and probate – what Aquilera now calls “heart issues.”

“Nobody was happy if they had to come into my office,” Aquilera said.

Now, even before you walk into the front office, across from the front entrance to the Recreation Center, you can’t help but smile as you are greeted by a pastel color infused “hoppy spring” sign – complete with a pink bunny – on the door.

As you walk in, you notice a purple basket of pens with colorful egg shaped tops adorned with white sequins, in addition to the purple garland that drapes the main office desk.

This is all part of Aquilera’s goal for workspace, to create a warming atmosphere for students and patrons – something she would have having a hard time establishing in her previous job in the legal filed four years ago.

“Having that warm atmosphere is very important to me,” Aquilera said. “It’s very welcoming to the patrons that come in, some come in every month just to see the new what the new theme is.”

At first, Aquilera had difficulty adjusting to her new job.

“I enjoyed seeing all the young people and the energy they provide, but it was completely overwhelming the first day,” Aquilera said. “The front office handles every transition, administration, and disperses all the information about what’s going on in the Rec. Center, so it was intimidating.”

Aquilera, who describes herself as a very independent person, said one of her biggest struggles had to depend on other people.

“I had worked for the attorney, but I really didn’t have a boss, and then I had to listen to two 20 year-olds about what to do was a little overwhelming,” Aquilera said laughing.

“I pretty much decided I’m going to having to do what I have to do to learn, even if that means depending on other people,” Aquilera said with a look of determination.

While in the legal field, Aquilera was on call to clients 24/7.

“All the clients had my cell phone in case something happened, like if a child was not returned,” Aquilera said.

In her new job, not being on call all the time was an adjustment in and of itself.

“Every time I heard the phone ring I thought it was the office, but no it was my friends – and they weren’t asking for legal advice,” Aquilera said jokingly.

Now, Aquilera is on call on her terms and gives contact information to the students that work with her.

“I make myself available to them afterhours in case there is an emergency, and they understand that they can call on me,” Aquilera said. “I done things such as going with a student to pay off a ticket that he received, and just walking him through that process.”

Aquilera also was able to make more time for her family.

“Come 5 p.m. I leave and I don’t have patrons calling me,” Aquilera said with a relief. “All the sudden, I realized that this time is my time.”

At first, Aquilera did not know what to do with her new found free time.

“I was at a lost, but my daughter was in high school so that took over,” Aquilera said. “Spending time with her and knowing that if we wanted to go somewhere we would have interrupted time was a big adjustment.”

While Aguilera has had to adjust her lifestyle in many ways, Aguilera said it has been a change well worth it.