Tag Archives: Olivia Mott

Editor’s Note — May 2012

      As Editor-in-Chief of The Collegian for this academic year, I feel compelled to extend my gratitude to those of you who have taken the time to submit to our school’s literary magazine this year. I know that sometimes it can be difficult to expose your words, but I want you to know that it was your creative work that was the foundation of The Collegian.

      But I must thank my staff for their submissions, genuine hard work, and love of writing that brought all of the material together. I really enjoyed working with you.

      And to The Board of Publications: Prof. Dubrow, Prof. Olsen, and Melissa McIntire, thank you for giving me the opportunity to recreate and re-establish The Collegian, for your support and guidance throughout the year, and for your encouragement.

      To Kate Bursick and Shane Brill, who were essential in the operation of The Collegian. Thank you for always helping me out, especially during the crazy times.

      I would like to welcome Abby Schwartz as our Editor-in-Chief for next year!

      And finally to my fellow seniors, I wish you all the best.

                                                                                                Olivia Hamilton Mott
                                                                                                Editor-in-Chief 2011-2012

Cleaning Day

By: Olivia Mott ’12, Editor-in-Chief

The clothing line out front of her house,
where the sun bleeds
into her blouses,

presses thin fingers down,
holding the page open
where I wrote
in her diary

about the day we spent
meeting at the coffee shop
not remembering the difference
between the impressionists and the
romantics, because every time

I think of all those little dots,
I see freckles and fall in
love,

and there are my
collared shirts swinging in the
breeze and bleeding reds and
yellows and thick sparks of sunlight.

Orange

By: Olivia Mott ’12, Editor-in-Chief

Sand towers fold down, overlapping – a river to the sea. She welcomes the kidnapped crabs, opens fluid arms, which are blond and black and mocha and peach. Their legs skitter down the handmade creek and press warm tummies against cold, blue water.

White

By: Olivia Mott ’12, Editor-in-Chief

The cutout, heavy and serrated, balances in the crack of light – hazy and brown. Which is nearly blended with the darkness. Sitting in the closet, bare feet tucked under bathing suit – wet, wet, dripping on the wooden planks of the floor. Waiting. Which is like fruit – sharp and long. Which is a heartbeat slipping, skipping, gone. At night it happens. But here, it is the same. Which is pretending. Which is saying it didn’t happen. Like Justine imagining William’s small form stretched on the riverbank. Which is corruption. Which is nature.

The Tolkien Professor

The Tolkien Professor


      Professor Olsen is currently in the process of editing his book, Exploring J.R.R. Tolkien’s “The Hobbit,” which will be released on September 18th 2012 — just in time for both the 75th anniversary of Tolkien’s original story as well as the December release of Peter Jackson’s The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey.

                                    Professor Corey Olsen, photography by Olivia Mott ’12.

Editor’s Note — April 2012

      Everyone has a story to tell; we tell them at lunch, at the mailroom, passing at the library — professors impart anecdotes in class. But why do we feel so compelled to recite our tales? We feel the need to share stories about our days, our families, our pasts, our dreams, and our fantasies.

      It’s a mania that comes alive inside us and demands a way out.

      Often we are satisfied with a verbal tale, but sometimes we feel the innate desire to take our tales and write them — transforming them into stories to be told and to become the collective story of human history. We strive to relate to one another, to connect on a level that transcends our physicality.

      In mythos, both ancient and modern, authors are drawn to the impossible. In Rome and Greece, people strove to explain the great and awesome phenomena around them; in modern times, people desire to slip into the realm of fantasy where we are able to incorporate the modern zeitgeist into a world of our own creation — to express humanity where perhaps even humans do not exist.

      In our April issue, we have focused on Prof. Olsen, whose teaching transports his class beyond the written material and into the mindset of the authors. He has an extraordinary ability to draw his students into the virtual realm of the written world, manifested by his clear understanding of the complex language, history, and psychology of the characters.

      It is when we immerse ourselves into these worlds that the beauty of the written word leaves a lasting impression upon us. As we strive to create stories of our own, we bring with us these stories, gathering ideas and passing them on in time.

                                                                                                Olivia Hamilton Mott ’12
                                                                                                Editor-in-Chief 2011-2012

Editor’s Note — February 2012

      Our desire in pursuing a degree in the arts at Washington College is to bring our knowledge and ideas to society, to improve our own voice, and to ultimately understand and continually discover new ways to interpret and unfold the human condition.

      Dr. Kathryn Moncrief hits it precisely when she says that the research and the exploring, “getting to open up a 400 year-old book” and being able to feel the writing — it is exciting and it stirs in you the desire to contribute to the world of writing in any way possible.  There is something unparalleled about truly grasping a piece of literature.

      We research not only for the academic credit, but to explore and understand why writers choose their subjects, why they write, what experience made them who they were in an historical context, and in turn, this academic aspect gives us the chance to improve our own ideas and conclusions about others’ works as well as our own.

      Chaucer drew from Ovid, Shakespeare from Chaucer, John Keats from Shakespeare, and many contemporary writers, including those of us here at Washington College, draw from all of these sources.

      Writing is eclectic and no form is less important or more powerful than the next.  Our February issue is about learning to love and appreciate all types of writing, so I encourage you to research and to explore new authors to inspire you!

                                                                                                Olivia Hamilton Mott ’12
                                                                                                Editor-in-Chief 2011-2012

Editor’s Note — November 2011

      I am passionate about The Collegian because I strongly believe that as students of Washington College’s liberal arts program, we should strive to become the next generation of published authors—whether in English, biology, history, psychology—the possibilities for us are endless. I encourage people to submit to The Collegian because I want us to have the opportunity to have our work read, enjoyed, and especially discussed throughout our college community.

      In her newest poetry volume, Stateside, Prof. Jehanne Dubrow finds success in pulling apart the human struggle of having her husband in the U.S. Navy overseas and combining it with her talent of infusing raw emotion and power into words purposefully selected and carefully edited.

      We struggle to find the perfect opening—the mind-twisting ending—in our writing. We work to bring the disorder of our lives into our own terms—a sonnet, a photograph, a painting. Through our experience, we hope to share our struggles—to match them and discuss them – our creations – with our peers.

      This year, The Collegian has undertaken the task to bring the knowledge and the experiences of our college’s published professors to light, so that we may learn to bring forth our own work and experiences to be noticed and read. To become a part of the collective history of literature and communication.

                                                                                                Olivia Hamilton Mott ’12
                                                                                                Editor-in-Chief 2011-2012

Brother Poem

By: Olivia Mott ’12, Editor-in-Chief

After Brent Goodman’s The Brother Swimming Beneath Me

In the blue of the night,
we lay on the warm bedspread,
like brackets: our backs aligned.
Two book spines turned outward,
and the artificial light of four
in the morning.

Our eyes scan the pages
for the next plot point;
we can see the moment
when our bodies lift
from the bed and sink
into the text, printed
and heavy in our books.

The moment rests, waiting
on the horizon, like the sun
and the guilt of seeing a
clock blink the red five-oh-six.

Secretly, we close our spines
and curl together, whispering
our chapters, laughing
at nothing.