how i'm doing

dang. 1^st year winter quarter has been a rollercoaster of emotions and events thus far and it's flown by so quickly. i blinked. 

it's 3:30 am and i should probably be studying for my econ final which is later today but instead i'm blogging. [insert joke about P/F]

a common thread these days is an ongoing struggle with exhaustion. for me to put in the maximum amount of work in my classes (which includes attending all lectures, taking notes, reading the textbooks, etc...) and have time to do anything else feels impossible right now. 

on top of my full course load, being part of multiple RSOs, and keeping up with career exploration, i work 4 jobs that total 25 hours a week. i feel like i am juggling so many things and trying to multitask every hour, micromanaging every waking minute of the day, so that everything gets inextricably intertwined. 

allocating my time was not the greatest challenge but walking the walk on my plans was. at least a week before, i would plan out my day by the hour but when the time came i felt too stressed or tired to actually go.

i miss home all the time. i miss my dog too. 

still, despite all the responsibilities and setbacks, there are moments that recharge my spirit and make life pretty beautiful.

i grab lunch with my friend and discipler nadiah sometimes and talk about our days and worries and faith and the bible and jesus. one crisp winter morning we trudged to a church a few blocks north of campus and chopped carrots and potatoes at the soup kitchen. she is sunshine in human form. i am so thankful for her unconditional kindness and guidance.

my insane pal gillian keeps me sane. her energy is unbridled and incredibly contagious. every time i run into her my day instantly gets better. we talk about anything and everything, from getting ripped to 20th century art to appreciating culture.

additionally i got to experience the true definition of zero friction on an iced over sidewalk, resulting in myself meeting the ground outside of the back of my dorm max palevsky. it was made even better by the fact that during my ever so graceful fall to the ground, my wallet flew out of pocket closer to the group walking towards me so i had to get even closer to my audience to retrieve it.

during those bliss times i have a free night, i've been walking alone to the point about a mile east of the school. there's a small garden a bit off the road. it's always quiet. there is nobody there except me, the greenery stretched out ahead of me, the spindly trees, and the stars. sometimes i put my bag down and sit there for a time, thinking about nothing in particular. thinking about how nice it is here. 

ramen san with elizabeth

 snowy uchicago

lisa's birthday

pretty houses

soup kitchen!

I love Nighthawks

I will use visual analysis to back up my interpretation of Hopper’s Nighthawks. Edward Hopper’s Nighthawks is fairly simple, illustrating a snapshot of a moment in time at a late-night diner in the city, and yet, it speaks volumes. The painting’s well-lit diner sits on an empty street corner, featuring four figures within. While this succinctly describes the painting, upon a deeper examination, one realizes Hopper utilizes an assortment of artistic techniques in order to convey the full emotion of the scene. In Nighthawks, Edward Hopper’s treatment of line elements and organization of forms in the painting both directs movement and builds tension and a sense of instability, resulting in a mysterious object onto which one can project one’s own reality. In addition, Hopper employs areas of light and contrasting colors as a means of constructing the scene that captures the mood of alienation and conveys a sense of timelessness.

First, the piece is separated into two different sections; the right side of the work is accentuated due to Hopper’s conduct of line elements and containment of the most activity in terms of subject matter. Visually, Nighthawks consists of dark zig-zagging bands of negative space that underscore the bright portions of positive space. The diagonal lines in the two buildings point to two different vanishing points, signifying a tension in the scene. Because of this, the painting fails to contain the standard formal aspects of one or two-point perspective; each building claims its own vanishing point, but they do not seem to lie on the same horizon line. The lines themselves lend to the feeling of tension. Despite the aura of isolation, commonly depicted with choppy lines, all of the lines are long and clear, painted confidently. The most prominent lines include those outlining the bar and the bottom of the front of the diner, yet again returning to the notion of tension. They draw the eye to the figures while simultaneously leading away from them, almost as if Hopper desires for them to be perceived, but not focused on.

Moreover, the long, insistent diagonal of the diner, commencing from the right side of the painting, leads the eye to the empty street sweeping in from the left, which ultimately turns the viewer’s attention right again, to the red-haired lady in the red dress sitting at the bar. These implied lines establish the focal point and movement in the painting. The observers’ focus is directed towards the lady, but the point on which the composition hinges rests elsewhere. While the woman serves as the focal point, the plane of the street which crosses the plane of the diner, an area defined by the light grey ray in the corner, is where the picture emerges from. This particular framework in which the woman is separated from the compositional center unnervingly introduces a sense of instability, further emphasizing her isolation and contributing to Nighthawks’s overall stark sentiment of seclusion.

Additionally, the positioning of the viewer as well as the organization of the forms contribute to the tense solitude and ambiguity of the scene that permits him to insert his own interpretation. The painting’s size, 2.75 feet by 5 feet, allows one to comfortably peer into the work, neither overwhelming his space nor losing himself in it. Hopper sets the scene on a corner isolated from the rest of the city and surrounds the diner with glass, creating an internal frame within a frame and granting viewers a window into the inside from the viewpoint of a passerby outside the diner. Despite the immediate accessibility of the subject matter, Hopper manages to distance the viewer from the four figures framed within the diner. He chooses a selective angle for the point of view, one that excludes any sight of an entryway; thus, onlookers can observe the scene at their leisure but are barred from entering, and accordingly, the four subjects appear trapped within the glass walls, specimens of the viewer’s imagination.

The interactions, or otherwise lack of, forge a narrative rife with possibilities. The man and woman in the background hunch over the cherry wood counter, their faces gaunt. The woman examines her fingernails, seemingly oblivious to the man next to her. The man in the foreground sits apart from the rest, a mystery with his back turned and partially obscured from the light. The waiter links them, appearing trapped within the confines of the counter. Even within a shared space, the characters do not touch. Though they sit together, they are still alone. Viewers are left to wonder about the character’s lives, pointing at its timeless quality. The scene depicted is evocative and endures through time by conjuring the imagination and invoking feelings that people will always be able to relate to based upon their subjective experience.

Finally, Hopper’s use of contrasting colors and areas of light helps him capture the bleak mood and timeless significance. Tension between light and shadow, specifically the contrast of the mute colors of night and harsh fluorescent glare of the diner lights, marks a dark mood and immediately guides the eyes in the composition. The street’s murky browns and deep blues hint at an undercurrent of desperation. The richest, most distinctive color is the red of the woman’s lips, dress, and hair, directing the viewers’ attention and further confirming her as the focal point. Despite this emphasis, nobody in the painting looks at her, adding to the sense of unease. The colors echo one another more intently the further from the woman they are. For instance, the man at the edge of the bar wears clothing with colors that closely resemble the darker shades outside the diner. Hopper’s use of color illustrates the desire for separation from the darkness because the people are clustered in the light, but they are incapable of achieving this since the colors from the outside world echo those within the diner. Though most of the painting is muted, the select times of bright colors contrast with the muted tone to create the controlled dynamic tension so integral to the painting’s ambiguity, meaning, and ambiance.

Hopper meticulously crafted Nighthawks paying close attention to organization of forms, colors, lines, and other elements in order to connect the audience with the situation in the painting and realistically portray the atmosphere of alienation associated with it. This atmosphere in itself frees viewers to interpret the work based upon their own realities and renders the piece timeless, an unmistakable work relatable to by anybody.

Fresh (as hell) man

from orientation week to taking classes to meeting fellow students to exploring the city, quarter one was a thrilling introduction to uchicago. 

the house system is a good way to meet others. i was especially nervous because i did not know a single person here and was worried i wouldn't be able to make any friends but quickly realized there was a niche for everyone. there were introverts and extroverts, gamers and history buffs, and classic music and edm lovers alike, and everyone in between. luckily woodward house in max p made it easy to feel at home, and i met two of my best friends from this community, denisse and nina. as i was surrounded by such brilliant people, i felt the imposter syndrome creeping in often but brushed it away as i do with all my emotions ;) 

professors are quirky and kind and sometimes savage. dining hall food ranges from muy terible to pretty darn great depending on which of the three you decide to go to. there is also this lifesaver thing called "fourth" meal, a great way to push back delta epsilon proofs and eat food during pre-midnight hours instead. the gothic architecture and staircases everywhere make me feel like a first year at hogwarts. everything sounds so shiny and new to the point that i can't imagine the magic of this place ever going away for me. this is a place i could only dream of all my life and deep inside of me pervades a rare form of happiness i've been waiting to feel for a very long time. 

jumping into lake michigan on the first day of classes

erin and i were having the end of summer 17 existential crisis so we drove 30 minutes for some cheese curds

a warm welcome

crashed a philosophy grad student party but they had la croix, so

kiyannnnn playing pool!!!! <3

botany pond with denisse 

venturing downtown

museum of science and industry

doing laundry for the first time in my life! #housewife

2 AM drying my hair with a t shirt on my head in public AKA committing social suicide on my second week

LAX bro practice

sorority recruitment 

happens every time but i always come back

the queue for study break

should've seen the look on my roommate's face

Halloween orchestra performance - talented denisse & neena

Nadiah and the Med

native foods with denisse! i personally believe that imitation meat should NOT be a thing

could not stop crying after my talented friend's phenomenal performance

what else would we be doing?

acclimating to a new place- one with no familiar faces, a place i had little knowledge of- was uncomfortable, but i'm so glad i came to uchicago.

i came away from my first quarter with friends that made me enthusiastic to come back to hyde park, that took care of me when life was harsh and inspire me to live with kindness and to be a better person. 

i can't wait to return for winter quarter. here's to the weird af conversations, spying on the xc boys at the reg, sneaking into north's fifteenth floor to gaze out at the skyline at midnight, stuffing my face with insomnia cookies every night, and skipping social events to chill with face masks with my roommate instead. 

..

Damn. I really came full circle. I fought to be in charge of my life, and even though i’ve reached a certain position it’s very frustrating to still feel like i have no more control than i used to. 

3 Ancient Chinese Nutrition Practices for Good Health

here in the usa, people describe foods in terms of protein, calories, fat, minerals, composition, etc., the emphasis being placed on the chemical composition of the food to quantifiably determine its nutrition level. nevertheless, the breakdown of food into scientific facts leaves out the individual with all his or her unique constitutions that information was intended for.

this is where the ancient chinese medicine diverges from the western approach: whether a food is beneficial is determined by its effect on the body. rather than quantity, chinese nutrition focuses on quality, including temperature, flavor, and action. it determines the characteristic properties of each food, such as sweet/salty/bitter flavors and how foods act on and move through our bodies.

though western & eastern medicine have the same foundation in science, they differ in approach. chinese nutritional science studies the electromagnetic patterns of food and how these vibrations affect the body. when eating foods that disrupt the body's resonance, it is unable to perform to the best of its ability.

we each have a unique body constitution. by eating foods correct for yours, you are feeding the body what is craves to be balanced. for example, someone with a body constitution that is dry and warm would benefit from eating a diet that brings moisture to the body to cool it down. if he continued eating drying or warming foods, the body would be analogous to a car overheating. this is not one-size-fits-all; each person is approached distinctly and viewed as a whole: mind, body, and spirit.

while a food in the west may be considered healthy in general, it may not suit someone's particular constitution at the time and do more harm than good. we should be searching for more personal options that consider our entire body and mind.
                                                   

1. bring yin and yang into the kitchen

a good chinese diet balances yin (wet/warm) and yang (dry/crisp) ingredients. yang foods - spicy foods, meat, coffee, and wine- heat the body up, whereas yin - typically carbohydrate heavy- foods cool the body down. china's traditional sharing approach to eating means that most meals contain yin and yang equilibrium. this combination helps stabilize the blood sugar, which is a key to good energy and minimizing weight gain.

2. eat seasonally

our rhythmic bodies are in touch with the natural cycles. during the summer, our bodies are more active and focus on cooling from the heat which is why seasonal vegetables and fruits are easily digested. during the winter, our bodies are focused on staying warm so seasonal vegetables like roots are warming and insulate us from the cold.

two thousand years ago, hippocrates said, "let food be your medicine." but in the west, we have forgotten this. in the east, communities respect the cycle of food and how it supports life. chinese medicine prescribes various foods as medicine; garlic to counteract toxins, chillies to dispel cold. the ultimate purpose is to allow chi to circulate evenly around the body.

3. cook raw foods

raw power? nahhhh even at home, we never eat raw salad. while raw food has a higher concentration of vitamins than cooked food, this research ignores the fact that lightly cooking foods makes its nutrients easier for the body to take on. the stomach is unable to digest too many raw foods.

What I Learned from High School

As a senior who recently graduated, here are some of the things that I have learned from high school.

1. Learn as much as you can. This doesn’t even have to be academic. Random talents, like reciting the alphabet backwards or performing magic tricks, are great conversation starters.

2. Staying committed to your values and identity can be difficult, but it's worth it.

3. Do NOT pull multiple all-nighters. Your health is worth more than getting a bad grade on one assignment or test.

4. It's okay not to be happy 24/7. Some days you just need to relax and take some time for yourself.

5. Be brave and learn how to flush toilets for other people instead of immediately fleeing the scene

6. Less can be more. I dropped some of my commitments junior year. I stopped Network and cut back on piano to focus on sports and other clubs. What was the result? I had more time to develop myself and focus on the things I truly care about, like volunteering and spending time with my family.

7. Live to polarize! Ask a stranger to hang out, tell that joke in class. Life's too short, and it’s no fun when you stay in the neutral zone.

8. It's OK to fail. I lost the BYC election as a junior and tripped on the first move of my figure skating test. Failure means you've tried. It's really nothing more than life giving you another opportunity.

9. Be yourself. This can be extremely difficult in high school with its social expectations and unwritten rules. For instance, if you are completely into music but the “cool” kids aren’t and think you are wasting your time practicing for long hours, keep doing what you’re doing and what makes you happy. Sure, you may lose many “friends,” but in the end, the right people who love and support you will enter your life.

10. Remember to challenge yourself, both academically and personally, but HAVE FUN!!

 

Valedictorian Speech

at this point in my life, the only thing that got me through talking in a microphone on stage to about 5000 people was repeating a certain phrase in my head over and over again (s/o to reddit for this tip). in hindsight, that might've not been the best idea. 

anyways, here's a snippet of the speech: Hi everyone! ...I’m very honored to speak here today and I hope that you’re entertained by this speech. I wrote this speech in the spirit of how I wrote everything in high school- started it yesterday evening, lost focus and dropped by several grad parties, snapped back to reality and stayed up all night, took a few internet breaks, and cried. But if at any time you’re bothered by one of my jokes, please feel free to write me a very long, angry letter of complaint. Uh, these can be sent to me at Alex.Balzarano@hotmail.com.Class of 2017, we are about to graduate! High school has undoubtedly been a crazy time that has changed us in many ways. Take me, for example. Four years ago, I was a young kid, full of ideals...and vigor. I used to believe in myself. Look at me now...

But in all seriousness, we have all been through similar struggles- trying to balance work and sports and clubs, taking one for the team in group projects, surviving bomb threats, and trying to avoid dubious minutes on MemBean.

Yet it would be foolish to ignore the good that has come with these struggles. Your personal improvement. The people you cherish. The all nighters, tests, and projects due on the same day only forced you to learn how to manage your time. The people who only hit you up for homework helped teach you what having and being a real friend means.

Take a deep breath. I know you're apprehensive and not exactly willing to part with everything. Especially the people you've met two weeks ago that you wish you'd met two years ago. You'll be okay. We desire forever, but all we get are second chances. Don't waste that opportunity poring over what could've been, nitpicking meaning out of senseless sarcasm, finding little things to argue over. It’s good to be open to life and to realize that most of the things that we fear either will never happen or won't be nearly as bad as we think.

Examining how I used every moment in high school, I don’t regret a thing. Sure, I made so many mistakes on the way, but what I do have is a collection of experiences with amazing people. And I’m sure you do as well. Remember these faces around you because these are the faces that have motivated you, that love you … There’s not one person here today who’s grown into who they are without the help another person. You are here because someone was there for you, whether it was your family, your teachers, your classmates, your teammates, or God or Buddha or Ricky Le. Whoever you prayed to. Someone is supporting you and that should make you feel less alone...

Here is a random quote by Ralph Waldo Emerson that kind of fits in, "To know even one life has breathed easier because you have lived. This is to have succeeded."

So, I love you Beavercreek because it is thanks to you that I am who I am today. We have struggled, and because of it, we are all the more stronger.

I would like to end with this speech with a quote by Abdullah Ahmed, who is sitting right here in the front row - "You can take a man from Beavercreek High School, but you can’t take Beavercreek High School from the man."

I should’ve just flunked out of senior year so I could experience it all again. PYSCH!!! We’re out of here! Congratulations and peace out fellow Beavercreek kids! My light is always green.

as with any ending, leaving high school was bittersweet. i could spend all day being at home and summer 2017 was the best summer of my life (so far). it was hanging out at midnight at steak and shake and driving fast at 3am and playing manhunt and 7 wonders and volleyball and reconnecting with some old friends and reading new books. and i cleaned up my house, digging through all my old files and documents from the past four years and organizing them into neat folders, cyberspace boxes packed in nice cyber-storage.

My Father with Cigarette Twelve Years Before the Nazis Could Break His Heart

Featured: one of my favorite poems by Phillip Levine.

I remember the room in which he held

a kitchen match and with his thumbnail

commanded it to flame: a brown sofa,

two easy chairs, one covered with flowers,

a black piano no one ever played half

covered by a long-fringed ornamental scarf

Ray Estrada brought back from Mexico

in 1931. How new the world is, you say.

In that room someone is speaking about money,

asking why it matters, and my father exhales

the blue smoke, and says a million dollars

even in large bills would be impossible.

He's telling me because, I see now, I'm

the one who asked, for I dream of money,

always coins and bills that run through my hands,

money I find in the corners of unknown rooms

or in metal boxes I dig up in the backyard

flower beds of houses I've never seen.

My father rises now and goes to the closet.

It's as though someone were directing a play

and my father's part called for him to stand

so that the audience, which must be you,

could see him in white shirt, dark trousers,

held up by suspenders, a sign of the times,

and conclude he is taller than his son

will ever be, and as he dips into his jacket,

you'll know his role calls for him to exit

by the front door, leaving something

unfinished, the closet light still on,

the cigarette still burning dangerously,

a Yiddish paper folded to the right place

so that a photograph of Hindenburg

in full military regalia swims up

to you out of all the details we lived.

I remember the way the match flared

blue and yellow in the deepening light

of a cool afternoon in early September,

and the sound, part iron, part animal

part music, as the air rushed toward it

out of my mouth, and his intake of breath

through the Lucky Strike, and the smoke

hanging on after the door closed and the play

ran out of acts and actors, and the audience --

which must be you -- grew tired of these lives

that finally came to nothing or no more

than the furniture and the cotton drapes

left open so the darkening sky can seem

to have the last word, with half a moon

and a showering of fake stars to say what

the stars always say about the ordinary.

Oh, you're still here, 60 years later,

you wonder what became of us, why

someone put it in a book, and left

the book open to a page no one reads.

Everything tells you he never came back,

though he did before he didn't, everything

suggests it was the year Hitler came

to power, the year my grandmother learned

to read English novels and fell in love

with David Copperfield and Oliver Twist

which she read to me seated on a stool

beside my bed until I fell asleep.

Everything tells you this is a preface

to something important, the Second World War,

the news that leaked back from Poland

that the villages were gone. The truth is --

if there is a truth -- I remember the room,

I remember the flame, the blue smoke,

how bright and slippery were the secret coins,

how David Copperfield doubted his own name,

how sweet the stars seemed, peeping and blinking,

how close the moon, how utterly silent the piano.