(I think every once in a while I deserve to write something that is pretentious. Something that makes a small thing into some mindboggling, lifechanging experience.)

I'm currently back home in the mountains. I'm realizing that staying here for the entire summer probably won't happen, but I'm gonna cross that bridge when I get there.

I had the house to myself today, and I decided to make some lemon ice. I've been craving it, and the house is deliberately void of sweets (my mom is trying her hardest to eat less sugar). The lemon ice recipe requires you to stir the mixture in the freezer once every 30 minutes. This is so it gets fluffy and more like a sorbet. So for the past few hours, every 30 minutes, I will get up and stir.

I've had a lot on my mind. Productive thoughts. I'm composing a piece for an ensemble some alumni of my old music school are running. I need to learn more about digital electronics. I'm thinking about making some new websites, while also keeping this one updated in some capacity. I need to figure out if someone will hire me back in the city or if I'll have to make do with whatever back home will provide me.

I set the timer for 30 minutes. I pull out my sheet music and start writing things down. Notation, English words, a lot of arrows for some reason. The timer goes off. I open the freezer and stir.

I set another timer for 30 minutes. I start transcribing my creative mess into my notation software. Slowly beginning to make sense of what my brain is telling me how it should sound, and what I need to do to achieve this. The timer goes off. I open the freezer and stir.

I set another timer for 30 minutes. I take a look at all the foundational material that one professor sent me so I can get caught up before that class in the fall. I couldn't believe how much had made sense, how much I had learned from that one project I did that I and my partner did not need to go as hard on but we did regardless. I couldn't believe harder how much I was beginning to understand. Sometimes when things are explained in a clear, organized language, you find the gaps in your knowledge and fill them in. I take notes furiously so it doesn't leave my brain (or if it does, I can remember it). I also take notes on what I will need to acquire and assemble for the class. Maybe I really do need to go back to the city? The timer goes off. I open the freezer and stir.

I set another timer for 30 minutes. I let my brain rest a while. I look at what I got accomplished. Projects seem so insurmountable until you break them down. For my thesis we had to submit a workplan, a timeline in which everything will be completed. It forces you to not only think about the order in which things need to be done, but also make the projects into smaller chunks. When you look at something more granularly, it suddenly seems more doable. I've learned I need to look less at the big picture and rather the smaller details that make it up.

Hold on, my timer went off and I gotta stir the lemon ice.

Just set another timer for 30 minutes. I think because of the amount of information we get assaulted with on a daily, and because everything is actually quite bad right now, it's hard to go small with your thoughts or tasks. But sometimes you need to sit down and just plan things out, taking it apart and looking at each piece and determining what needs to be done and how this will be accomplished. This could be something as small as cooking dinner to as large as organizing an event.

Your mind can only process so much at a time. Remember, we are not robots, we are made of meat and water like every other animal. Plan out your week/month/couple of months. Structure how you're going to work on that artistic piece. Visualize the components to organize that protest, then draw it out. Or break time down into 30 minutes, and get what you can done before you have to stir the lemon ice again.