The Penguin Post

PHOTO CAPTION: The picture above was taken on my last trip to the Monterey Bay Aquarium. It was taken before we had to come home.

I have a deep fascination with penguins. The last time we went to the Monterey Bay Aquarium with Andrew, my son, I kept going back to the penguin exhibit. I seemed more interested in them than anyone in my family. As the day winded down, I had to be reminded it was time to go home.

Penguin Cam
So you can imagine how pleased I was to find out that I could continue to observe the little guys online at Live Penguin Stream. You can also view sharks, sea turtles, sea otters and much more at online. To choose from various different live cams go to Live Web Cams.

March of the Penguins
I recently watched March of the Penguins on DVD and found it to be an incredible documentary and love story of the Emperor Penguin. It is amazing what these guys go through. In the film you see actual footage of a colony of hundreds of Emperor Penguins return to their frozen breeding ground (a 70 mile journey in treachorous weather conditions) and give birth to and care for their little chicks. I strongly recommend it for you Penguin lovers.

Happy Feet Returns to Antartica
Watch a video of a penguin who swam to New Zealand and is being assisted home. He is being returned to Antartica. Check out the video here.

For more information on Penguins you can also visit:

http://www.buschgardens.org/infobooks/Penguins/home.html http://www.kidzone.ws/animals/penguins/index.htm

Enjoy!

Nature Quote

"The course of nature is the art of God."1

Edward Young

Reference
1. The Harper Book of Quotations, Third Edition, New York, Harper Perrenial, 1993.

Doodling leads to appreciation of art

When I was in the third grade, I used to doodle and scribble circles in my notebook while Mrs. Plyler gave boring lectures on vegetable soup or other topics of intense interest. I would draw spaceships, aliens, cars--whatever I could come up with--it wasn't all that bad either (or so I thought).

In high school and college I did the same thing. With teachers who would sputter words that seemed to take hours to reach my eardrums, I couldn't help grabbing my pencil and start drawing circles. The thing is, in the third grade I thought that what I drew was art. I'd go home and show my mom my drawing and ask, "Isn't this nice, Mommy?"

Of course the response was, "That's ... interesting, son." Well, before I knew it, Mrs. Plyler caught me while I was creating one of my masterpieces. My dreams of being a famous artist were dashed as my classmates laughed at my precious doodle.

I didn't stop drawing, though. But it did make me think: "What is art?"

As Mrs. Plyler and other teachers took me on field trips to art museums, the performing arts, and the library, I learned about Vincent van Gogh, Pablo Picasso, Mark Twain, William Shakespeare and Michelangelo. I ended up believing that paintings, sculpture, literature, music, etc., were all art was about. Boy, was I wrong. There is more to art than just skill and craft. For instance, what about all the things artists paint or poets write about, isn't that art?

According to Webster's Dictionary, art is "the application of skill and knowledge in a creative effort to produce works that have form and beauty, and esthetic expression of feeling."

But, the real art behind all artists' creations revolves around what already exists. Rivers, mountains, the roses in the wild, the trees in our backyards, the sky, the stars, the big dipper and our day to day emotions are what artists are trying to capture--that's the real art.

And people are pieces of art too. We all come in different shapes, backgrounds, colors and sizes. Our personalities create who we are, and we produce art every day as we touch other peoples' lives. Parents, guardians, friends, and God helped us grow into what we are today. Just as plants need water, we need nourishing. It would be terrible to step on a flower or spill coffee on a priceless painting; it is just as important to not pollute our bodies and souls and take care of ourselves.

A couple years ago I observed the work of artist Dale Chihuly at the San Jose Museum of Art. Chihuly uses heat, fire, sand, centrifugal force, gravity and chance to create glass art. I saw blown glass forms of flowers, butterflies, marine life, and fishing floats.

I also saw his paintings--brush scribble and splattered lines on a board. It kind of looked like my third grade scribble, but when I saw a gray bike meshed in a brown background with a yellow line at the bottom, I was taken back to when my father and I would go out for bike rides when I was a kid. It reminded me how special memories and life can be.

I realized art is life and that artists try to capture that as best they can because it is simply beautiful. It is important to remember that we are special and to continue to paint in our lives by allowing our fingerprints to touch others.

I guess, I will never look at my scribble the same way when a boring teacher intones droning sentences that take forever to reach my eardrums.

NOTE: The scribble in the picture above is not mine. It is my son Andrew's scribble at 8 months.

PSALM 8:1,3

"O LORD, our Lord, how majestic is your name in all the earth! You have set your glory above the heavens ... When I consider your heavens, the work of your fingers, the moon and the stars, which you have set in place, what is man that you are mindful of him, the son of man that you care for him?"

- Psalm 8:1,3, NIV

NOTE: I took this picture last year at Yosemite. It is a photo of the beautiful Vernal Falls. For more photos of Yosemite go to www.yosemitepictures.com.

Coach teaches others perseverance

When I was 12, I was running liners on the basketball court and doing the three-man weave as if I played in the NBA. That's the way Chico wanted it, he would take no less. "You have to give 100 percent to truly succeed," he would tell us.

Every afternoon Kenneth Bueno, or as we knew him by "Chico," would wheel himself out of his van, maneuver his mechanized wheelchair over to the beat up basketball courts at St. Victor's School and mold us into winners. His voice would ring in our ears as he would shout instructions to drills, plays and verbal corrections to our game. By the middle of the season we had become in tune with Chico's voice like a group of soldiers following the orders of a drill sergeant; we started to play as a team and win ballgames.

Chico taught us to listen to the right voice and not succumb to the popular view. We would complain and grumble like sixth graders usually do when they are disciplined. No other team on campus ran as much as we did and many times they would make fun of us. But by the end of the season we looked forward to running liners and laps because we realized we were actually winning.

And as a skinny boy with a 4-foot-10-inch frame and stick arms and bony elbows that popped out of my skin, I gained confidence in myself and my goals. Despite the fact that I sat at the end of the bench and passed the ice to the rest of the guys, Chico taught me that I could contribute to the team.

I never gave up on playing more, and Chico would not let me; he just encouraged me to work harder to achieve the playing time I wanted. It was not so much his words that motivated me, but the way he lived out his life that showed me how strong the human spirit can be.

Chico, who played varsity basketball, football, and baseball at Piedmont Hills High School, went swimming at a friend's house and dived into the shallow end of the pool. He hit his head and severed his spinal cord, leaving him permanently paralyzed from the neck down.

But, Chico would not let the accident bring down his spirit and his passion to live. If anything, it made him work harder to make his dreams come true. Danish philosopher Soren Kieregaard once said, "Life can be understood by looking backward, but it must be lived by looking forward."

And that's what Chico did. Chico could have focused on his accident and folded his arms and given up. But instead he focused on what was ahead, having learned from the past and not what was left behind.

He took his cards dealt to him by life and earned a master's degree in child counseling and education at San Jose State University while coaching us at St. Victor's. He then returned to Piedmont Hills as an assistant basketball coach while pursuing his teaching credentials.

Chico carried on with his life as if he was not disabled; he did not let the worries of his handicap excuse him from being the best he could be. Instead, he focused on what God wanted him to be and pursued it with a passion. Chico wanted to give to others what could never be taken from him, his spirit of perseverance.

Chico died on Oct. 10, 1994 of cancer, but his spirit lives on with all those he touched and disciplined through his coaching. In the eight grade I became a starter as the team became smaller and was ready to step up to the extra minutes of playing time. Chico taught us all to accept our present predicament and start from there to make our dreams a reality; that it was OK to fail at times, but that it was not OK to aim low in life.

Even now, I can still hear his voice traveling through the moist air and the crowd's chants as I sit at the end of the bench with a few splinters pinching my behind: "Eddie go in the game!"

Surprised, I stagger my skinny frame and wobbly elbows onto the court with my heart pounding 100 miles per hour, my large round eyes fixed on the game and my conviction in place as I pledge to play with that spirit that has no fear and no regrets.

Childhood Quote

"Childhood is the time when we can build castles in the sky, see elephants and monkeys in the clouds, play with tadpoles, jump on our matresses to our heart's delight, ask why the sky is blue, roll in the dirt, and play with trucks and dolls; it is a time when memories are made and friendships established.

"Our childhood is the beginning of our creative nature and ambitious desire to enjoy life and succeed in it. In childhood we find the essential and fundamental ingredients for a healthy life."

Written by Eddie Zacapa

Drawing from the strength of my father

As I watched the "Adventures of Louis and Clark" on television almost 10 years ago, I realized then that, at times, I played the role of Clark Kent in my life.

At times I would find myself falling over chairs and desks, clumsily trying to keep myself from falling on my face. Yet, at other times, I might fall in love with someone and never let the her know (back in my college days).

But what I found I had the most in common with Clark was that, I, too was hiding a secret identity. On October 28, 1995 my father, Max Zacapa, passed away and I was trying to live my life as it was before his death.

But the truth was that my life was not the same though it may have appeared that way to others. My mother and I were experiencing financial constraints. We would worry about the bills and getting my brother and I through school. My father deeply desired that we would both get a quality education.

As a San Jose State University student, I seemed to put on my glasses (literally and figuratively) as Clark Kent did. I took on the task of working for the Spartan Daily Newspaper, taking 18 units, and juggling a part-time job. All the while pretending that all was well with me.

I believed that it was important for me to do this. As I would take the bus to school, I remember hearing in my head the words that my father had told me, "Life is hard son, but to succeed you must fight back and pursue your goals."

When I discovered that my father had cancer and that it had been declared terminal my heart sank. My fists clenched and I remember punching the night air swiftly as I left the hospital feeling despondent.

I would eventually drop all my classes at West Valley College to be with my father. I spend the whole spring semester with him and I got to know him like I never knew him before.

I visited him every day at Sub Acute - a rehabilitation hospital - and we played cards and shared the sun in the patio. He told me stories about my family heritage in Honduras and of his voyage to America to start a new life. It was as if he had a secret identity all his life that he was just now revealing to me.

He told me of one of his first jobs in factories and how he broke his back one too many times. How he cried "tears of blood" and how he, at age 49, married my mother after just two months of dating.

Later as my mother quit her job in the summer to be with my father full time, he convinced me to go back to school. I did it for him, and when I attained my Associate in Arts degree it brought a smile to his face that I will never forget.

That smile has carried me to where I am today. I have graduated from San Jose State University with a B.S. in Journalism and Bryce Jessup University with a B.S. in Bible and Theology. I am currently a domestic violence counselor and previously have worked in college ministry for many years.

I have come to see a lot of my father in myself. We are both reserved, determined, sensitive and known to wear glasses to hide from life's tough times.

For me, my father was truly a "Superman," and his struggles have made me who I am today as I continue to work to make him proud.

Hours before his death he was asked if he was ready to die. He answered, "I want us to keep fighting together." I hope I can continue to do just that.

A Family Portrait

A picture of my son, Andrew Max, and I hanging out. He was 12 months in this picture.

Harmony Heart's Purpose

I believe that we all naturally want to contribute to the well being of others. That we all have a deep desire to enrich the lives of those around us--a longing to speak and act from the heart. This blog's purpose is to help us to do just that.

In this blog you will find many inspirational stories, testimonials, advice and anything that has to do with making life more wonderful. The goal is to make a heart connection with others (where we can understand each other) and to help people become more aware of what is alive in their heart.

Rich Blessings,

Eddie