Wake: Up to Poetry
"The act of poetry is a rebel act."
The Last Day at the Press
It is the seniors’ last day of class, and subsequent last day at the Press. And I’m going abroad last year, so it’s my pseudo-last day at the Press. Candide cornered me the second I walked into the Press, and told me to close my eyes. Against my better judgment, I acquiesced. She told me to turn to the wall, open my eyes on the count of three, and tell her my gut reaction at what I saw. I turned around and found several prototypes of the cover art I had been organizing. It was such a neat feeling — to see a product of the work I had been doing this whole semester. We’re currently in the process of selecting the final cover art. We’re designing the mosaic’s structure on the page and organizing the photos that will appear, most of which were taken by Wake students. I could not be happier with the result.
The seniors are transferring their senioritis to the Press today. It’s our least productive day probably to date. And Candide brought us desserts as a parting gift. Alyssa will carry the torch for at least a semester until I get back from abroad. Each semester, interns’ are grouped together in various combinations according to our schedules. This semester, I have worked with Alyssa, Laura, and Justin, and I couldn’t have asked for better collaborators and friends. We sure are going to miss them.
Justin and Laura sift through inventory one last time.
Alyssa burrows into the Interns’ Corner while working on edits for a new volume.
Bebe, Candide’s dog, waits to get some of the dessert Candide brought the interns. Probably shouldn’t eat the chocolate.