This week's session was quite refreshing. The Fibonacci poem warm-up felt like follwing a random rule to write a poem, which is not usually how I write. Still, the constraint did something useful: it pushed me to edit, pick sharper words, and notice a certain rhythm. It made me think that in class, the right constraint can be a ladder rather than a cage. Apple-cider time was a wholesome chaos in a good way—people swapping stations without fuss, knives and hand-cranks going, press at the end like a boss fight. It was one of those rare moments where group work actually felt like a real production line and not a forced activity.
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