The Vessel Volume XII

BAYPORTLITERARY MAGAZINE

VOLUMEXII

TABLE OF

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From The Editors

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Physical Art

21 Meet the Artist

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22

Photography

37

Meet the Photographer

38

Writing

57

Meet the Author

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Digital Art

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Meet the Digital Artist

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About the Book

FROM THE

EDITORS Dear Readers, The XII edition of The Vessel Literary Magazine was created by the Literary Magazine Editors. We are ecstatic to feature the amazing artists of Bay Port High School and their hard work put in throughout the year.

Please enjoy this Edition of The Vessel Sincerely, Paige Drossart, Editor Addison Fenlon, Editor Cora Thomson, Editor Ella Vanden Hoogen, Editor

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PHYSICAL ART

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Cover Shoes - Reese Leonhard 6 Snow Angels - Ella Artel 7 Old Friends - Ella Artel 8 Petals - Macy Daanen 9 Will it Die By My Hands- Emma DuBois 10 Searching - Reese Leonhard 11 Hair - Reese Leonhard 12 Sweet Tooth - Margaux Brown 13 Man's Best Friend - Travis Carrol 14 Responsibility - Travis Carrol 15 I don't know why I bite - Evelyn Mariscal-Guzman 16 Purple Hues - Evelyn Mariscal-Guzman 17 Saying Goodbye - Evelyn Mariscal-Guzman 18 Sour Secrets - Grace Decker 19 Candied Memories - Grace Decker 20 What’s Inside - Grace Decker

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Snow Angels 6

Ella Artel

Old Friends Ella Artel

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Petals 8

Macy Daanen

Will It Die By My Hands Emma DuBois

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Searching 10

Reese Leonhard

Hair Reese Leonhard

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Sweet Tooth 12

Margaux Brown

Man's Best Friend Travis Carrol

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Responsibility 14

Travis Carrol

I Don't Know Why I Bite Evelyn Mariscal-Guzman

Done

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Purple Hues 16

Evelyn Mariscal-Guzman

Saying Good-bye Evelyn Mariscal-Guzman

Done

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Sour Secrets 18

Grace Decker

Candied Memories Grace Decker

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What’s Inside 20

Grace Decker

MEET THE Grace Decker

Why Art? “I enjoy art because it’s a way to express feelings without words; when words fail art speaks.”

Grace’s artwork “Sour Secrets”, “What’s Inside”, and “Candied Memories” were created for a portfolio in her AP 2d art class. She centered her portfolio around food and how it can represent different human experiences.

“In ‘What’s inside’ the 'inside' for me represented femininity and the societal pressures of motherhood. The pomegranate fruit is symbolic for fertility which I used to convey how women are expected to become mothers and reduced to their anatomy.

In her free time, she is always at Drumline or Show Choir. She loves listening and creating music.

Grace's art work “Sour secrets” is featured on Page 18, “Candied Memories” is featured on Page 19, and “What’s Inside” is featured on Page 20 21

PHOTOGRAPHY

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24 California Wildlife - Charlotte Myers 25 Hues Of the Summer Sky - Allison Kramer 26 American Airlines 777-300 - Lawton Neuenfeldt 27 C-5M Super Galaxy - Lawton Neuenfeldt 28 Sky West CRJ900 - Lawton Neuenfeldt 29 F-22 Raptor - Landon Piette 30 St. Croix Gecko - Landon Piette 31 Play On - Cora Thompson 32 Wildlife Photography - Adrian Roberts 33 Wildlife Photography - Adrian Roberts 34 Wildlife Photography - Adrian Roberts 35 Sturgeon Bay Shores - Victoria Bohn 36 The Mail Train - Logan Schaut

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California Wildlife

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Charlotte Myers

Hues of the Summer Sky

Allison Kramer 25

American Airlines 777-300

Lawton Neuenfeldt 26

C-5M Super Galaxy

Lawton Neuenfeldt 27

Sky West CRJ900

Logan Schaut

Lawton Neuenfeldt 28

F-22 Raptor

Landon Piette 29

St. Croix Gecko

Landon Piette 30

Play On

Cora Thompson 31

Wildlife photography

Adrian Roberts 32

Wildlife photography

Adrian Roberts

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Wildlife photography

Adrian Roberts 34

Sturgeon Bay Shores

Victoria Bohn

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The Mail Train

Logan Schaut 36

MEET THE Logan Schaut

Logan’s photograph “The Mail Train” was taken at the National Railroad Museum in Ashwaubenon. The train was just freshly restored when the photo was taken.

“I remember when I was little, it was all rusty and broken down, it meant a lot to see it actually looking nice,” Logan said.

When not taking photos, Logan enjoys spending his free time hanging out with his friends, playing with his dogs, or chilling at home.

Why Photography?

“It's just another way that I can express myself and express my interests to others if they wish to see my photography.”

Logan’s photography “The Mail Train” is featured on page 36

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WRITING

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40 Beyond Paper - Ellie Virlee 41 It’ll Always Be You #1 - Daniella Paluda 42 Colors - Ziva Goldman 44 Up The River - Andrew Vandersteen 46 Rocket of Babble - Andrew Vandersteen 48 Up The Road III - Andrew Vandersteen 50 I Believe In Being Extra - Bobbie Seichter 52 Pinky Promises - Lillian Thyne 54 I am - Victoria Bohn 55 Falling - Clara Goen 56 The Last Fourteen Days - Emilea Thibodeau

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Beyond Paper Ellie Virlee

Before the ink runs dry, I am rugged, opaque.

I occupy acres, Holding space Without the presence Of shame.

Vicariously me, No percentage may Encapsulate my potential.

But the paper, The paper is hungry, Vast, Infinite.

I become a thin film, stretched Sketched.

Etched in my skin Are the presumptions Of what I must become.

Beyond Paper, I Am the roughest draft.

Stilted, Preliminary.

Engorged in my cocoon Of instinctive comfortability.

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When will I eclose?

It'll Always Be You #1 Daniella Paluda

Staring at pages Filled with memories of a Boy that she once loved.

She does still love you, But she just can’t figure out Who you have become.

She’s written over Your name, she’s scribbled it out, Yet it’s clear as day.

She has lost her boy.

The one she loved, and yet, still, He won’t go away.

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Colors

Ziva Goldman

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Hearts and diamonds in a deck of cards The main color that’s in the aftermath of a fight The color that’s inside us all not by choice, but by evolution The one that people say is love, when really it’s not.

Or maybe it’s the color of sunsets Of flames so high they illuminate everything in their path The color that’s one of the most rare to find on cars The thing that people can’t decide whether it’s the color or the fruit.

It’s the color most common for highlighters The color of annoying dandelions that show up in summer The sour sweetness of lemonade The default color of the sun when we were once kids.

It’s the color of the grass that we will always see The color associated with sickness The one that’s vibrant on common trees Along the stems of most flowers.

Or it’s the color of water The bright sky on a clear day

The color associated with sadness, crying anyway With the type of music that was popular in 1920.

Or maybe it’s a galaxy far far away Hidden in fields of lavender Or vines covered in grapes Or the defected streetlights that show themselves through time and decay.

It’s the background color in the northern lights Common in flowers like tulips and stargazers The second viral color of Valentine's Day The signal of healing or rebirth.

It’s the color of dirt, a symbol of life The color of most tree bark Prominent on animals And the color of hot chocolate.

It could be the color of frost on a cold winter day The color of the stars we see from down here The viral color of paper The background color of most films.

It’s the color of most jewelry The one used for machines Commonly found in computers One you can find in pretty much anything.

But I really think it’s the color of outlines The color of the void, of endless space The color people say midnight is The color that brings comfort to the unknown.

It’s the colors of the rainbow that tell what anyone or anything is It just takes eye to eye to see What’s real And what isn’t.

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Up the River III Andrew Vandersteen

The night is sweet as the river calls Board the vessels towards the falls Follow the call and come to see If it's the future we want it to be The thunderous black ripples ahead Show us what we need to dread Don't turn back don't look back We must continue on our track The rolling rocks and dark rain Come at us with marked disdain The first vessel up ahead tried to steer But under the water he disappeared And one by one the travelers entered Their confident lives centered Ahead in the rapids they met an unknown force They try to hold out against the river’s course It's my turn. I can see the track.

Maybe I can hold myself against the attack The rapids whirl and whip ahead Oh the apologies I never said And suddenly I'm sucked in.

A hard rock sets me in a spin I crashed between rocks trying to maintain control But i follow my friends into that deep black hole

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Im sucked violently down into the river But suddenly the dark bottom became shining silver Down is now up and my kayak had left me completely And a compelling voice called from up ahead sweetly So I turned up the roaring drive.

And wondered if i was still alive Moving slowly ahead i took a stroke And then the white water broke Swimming faster up the wash Faster and faster oh gosh And suddenly i soar up into the sky blinding white Through the clouds and what a sight Higher up i find a perch This place seems as some sort of church But then i realized im somewhere new Ahead figures appear, I don't wonder who And then i am surrounded I grew nervous as the head figure expounded Being there i heard a list of my sins The figure i could see had only begin And then the great voice asked my earthly situation And why I deserved a heavenly reservation

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Rocket of babbel Andrew Vandersteen

Board the rocket if you can On this vacation you won't get a tan But everyone must go there eventually Or disappear into the deep deep valley Tip the assistant and climb the ladder Get your moneys worth it will make you gladder This rockets not going to space But up to the great heaven’s face So give us the money you owe And you'll see the eternal show For bringing you to heaven by men’s might To us that is our delight When the hatch closes and the bolts are in No one aboard remembers their sin Now there all going to ascend And heavens feast to pretend The rocket lifted off and broke the false thought And all knew they now wouldn't get what they sought Because up there there's more than air You cannot receive what is not for you fair High up in space the rocket fell silent At the sight of eternity it all turned violent Down from the heavens they were cast Screaming through the atmosphere’s blast

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The angry fire engulfed the travelers lost For all that its worth they got what it cost From a view down on terra firma home Down flashed the comet made of chrome But as the ones gone neared the land A hole opened up in the beach sand The capsule of the unfortunate people flashed through Their integrity was broken it would not renew The hole closed then disappear The family on earth started to fear What was that hole That wasn't their goal There's now a sale on the extra seats Yes ma’am here's your receipt We've doubled the space Come and see God’s face The families dug around the site Find their family or see if they might But as they worked something was wrong That sound was another rockets song Watch out for those who sell artificial grace Know what's up whatever the case Don't let any person fall for that lie Or else their soul would rather die

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Up the Road III Andrew Vandersteen

The hazy road winds on ahead Filling the dead travelers with dread The bus’s headlights cut through the night All passions and furies ignite The bus full of travelers and differences said The debate is concerning the road ahead Does it continue to eternity’s height?

And require choices that are right?

Or does the road loop around?

In a loop of life and death bound?

Every life work for the best And once perfect escape the test Or there lies darkness and eternal black And everything is lost in fortune’s stack It is the plain black that lies ahead And death we will forever dread

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Possibly it is a great filter the good to the overpass And the bad to the underground fiery mass Segregated by the qualities of deed Like the ones who helped those in need

Some even say there is no one left unfed It is the happiest land and someone once said Every lost traveller will reunite And living there be forever alright To be stuck in the tomb with no waking light Until called out for the judgment’s great fight But if found good and true Brought to existence bliss and blue Some old thinkers entered and said That all on earth has too much to dread For no one alive has done enough deeds right So all will go down to their eternal plight To be sent to a place of cleaning until flawless And then to the happiest place to progress But what if found too unclean Go to be lost in a land not unforeseen Does the road lead home and true Or to a place that no one wants to do The bus traveled away solemnly The departing figures now silently What will soon be known to the travelers departing They are going—where—no one alive is knowing So the debate continues all night Until us ourselves leave on our flight

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I believe in being extra Bobbi Seichter

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I believe in being extra. The little sprinkled on details which decorate your days, making your weekends more vibrant, and making yours a life well lived. In my opinion, to trudge through life without all the frilly, extravagant, needless details is like bread without butter, or pasta without sauce. The Oxford dictionary definition for the Latin word extra is “to a greater extent than usual”.

To me, extra means going out to try a different $8 coffee with my friends every Sunday. It's never really been about the coffee itself. I could just as easily make my own latte at home for a fraction of the price. But in saving that $8, I would be missing out on so much more than just a drink. I would miss out on the confidence that comes with going out dressed in the perfect outfit that I spent hours matching to my shoes, purse, and lip gloss. I would miss out on the perfectly chilled mason jar that the decadent drink is served in and the hundreds of pictures I take to document the beautifully presented beverage. I would miss out on the two hours of mindless chatter and gossip with my friends while we sip our coffee in the dimly lit lounges.

The beautiful laughter-filled memories that derive from these coffee dates are something that I wouldn't trade for the whole world. I will always choose to buy the latte. Extra means pulling over on the side of the road to pick pink and yellow tulips for your mom because you know they are her favorite. It means writing your best friend a random letter on all the things you love about them just for the sake of brightening their day.

When you take the time to do a random act of kindness for someone else, completely unprovoked, it makes this tarnished earth just a little bit brighter. By going the extra mile, you slowly subtract from the duller parts of life and make them vibrant. Take the time to slow down your busy schedule. So many of our days are filled to the brim with practices and appointments.

I firmly advocate that the terms lollygagging and dawdling are the absolute best verbs in the entire English language. These terms are most often used to depict laziness or wasting time, but I think that they describe the best aspects of life. The time you take to stop and smell the roses. Taking a walk around the block at a near-crawling pace just to really appreciate the beauty of the summer greenery. Listening to nothing but the monotonous dripping of the morning dew from the leaves. Noticing the direction of the wind, the position of the sun, and the shapes of the clouds.

Life has a tendency to fly by. Take the extra second to sing, dance, and dawdle your way through it, never forgetting to add the cherry on top of every moment. I believe in being extra.

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Pinky Promesis Lillian Thyne

We sat beneath the willow tree, where shadows used to play, You took my hand and whispered things I thought would always stay Our pinkies locked like iron rings, a pact of blood and bone But seasons bled to winter frost, and words began to fray The strength of what we promised then just simply slipped away Oh, the crooked little finger is a fragile place to rest, The weight of all the secrets that we carried in our chest You swore upon the rising moon, a debt you’d never pay Now I’m holding onto nothing while you’re miles and miles away A shattered vow is silent, but it echoes in the dark Leaving nothing but the pressure where your skin once left its mark I see you in the crowded streets, or in a sudden dream You said "forever" as if it was true But promises are clearly heavy things for you While you traded in our love for a simple life I’ll still remember how you looked at me that night

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Oh, the crooked little finger is a fragile place to rest, The weight of all the secrets that we carried in our chest You swore upon the rising moon, a debt you’d never pay Now I’m holding onto nothing while you’re miles and miles away A shattered vow is silent, but it echoes in the dark Leaving nothing but the pressure where your skin once left its mark It’s the smallest kind of treason, the breaking of a sign To untie every knot we made and leave me with the twine I still look down at my right hand and feel the ghost of you The phantom of a simple word that never did come true So go ahead and walk the path, forget the way we swore I’ll uncurl my shaking hand and lock the heavy door Just a pinky promise broken, just a little bit of trust Turned from silver in the sunlight into bitter, biting dust

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I am

Victoria Bohn I am the shade of blue I painted my bathroom with. I go down stairs every morning to see this melancholy shade of blue as it swallows my winter sadness. It's a reminder of the moments I share with my grandpa eager to finish the rest of the basement with him. This blue is the whole reason I have a passion, a purpose. So many trips to Manerders with him to pick the perfect color. This color engulfs my pain of seeking for what is not fit.

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Falling Clara Goen

Pounding Heart beats Faster Faster The ghosts around me move in formation.

Motions fluid– Uniform without Effort.

Hands sticky against the tiles – pounding Faster Faster Faster – They dislocate.

I cling to the fragments But I’m Fallingfallingfalling!

THUD. Bathroom tiles: cold.

Back Against cabinets; Ghosts fade: Opaque again.

My heart?

Thuds.

To the rhyme of their footsteps

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The Last Fourteen Days Emilea Thibodeau

I remember dreaming of the day my sister would move out and leave me behind A lifelong need to be apart The day she told me “I want to leave” was the day my life had hope But now from 42 days to åa final two weeks I can’t help but think my wish was wrong Because on the last day, I wished for her to stay

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Why Writing?

“I’m a fan of the actual writing style behind it, I think the structure and the actual words used in it Poam resonate with me.”

MEET THE Emilea Thibodeau Emilea’s writing piece “The Last Fourteen Days” was created about her sister, who originally had 42 days before she had to move out, but then her moving date was bumped up to 14 days left.

“It was a very big change because I had shared a room with her for the first 14 years of my life and suddenly she was gonna be out of the house in less than two weeks,” Emilea said.

Emilea’s writing “The Last Fourteen Days” is featured on page 56

Outside of writing, she spends her time doing more writing and reading.

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DIGITAL ART

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60 Bo Burnham - Cheyanne Kerver 61 Chicago, The Windy City - Breelyn Birtues

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Bo Burnham Cheyanne Kerver

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Chicago, the Windy City Breelyn Virtues

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MEET THE

Breelyn Virtues

Why Digital Art? “I choose digital art because of the effciency, ability to challenge myself and pursue hard computer challenges.”

Her piece “Chicago, the Windy City” was originally for a graphic print design assignment, but became more than a project, it was a way for her to share her appreciation for a place she enjoys.

“There are so many activities to do, and I have an aunt that lives there that I'm very close to, it's somewhere that I like to go,” Breelyn said.

Outside of creating digital art, she spends her time hanging out with friends, creating more art, and baking.

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Breelyn’s work “Chicago, the Windy City” is featured on page 61

ABOUT THE

BOOK

Cover

The cover art was made by Reese Leonhard. The goal for this year’s Literary Magazine was to reflect the 2026 yearbook theme, Nostalgia, by incorporating a retro theme to the Literary Magazine.

Production

The Vessel was produced by the Literary Coordinators at Bay Port High School, located in Green Bay, Wisconsin. Layouts were designed in Canva and imported to issuu.

Typography

Headings are set in Aileron sizes 42-122. Body copies are set in Canva Sans sizes 21-26. Names and tittle’s of work are set in TT Drugs sizes 30-61.

Photos

The authors provided all photos featured in The Vessel. As named on each page. All Table of content photos are provided by the editors of Literary Magazine.

Colors

All colors used in the magazine are organized by media: art #f83935 and #ed6335, photography #ffbd59 and #00bd84, writing #00aeef and #9440dd, and digital art #ff7df2 and #974826 with accent colors #ffe7c2 and #3c3333.

Editors

Paige Drossart, Addison Fenlon, Cora Thomson, and Ella Vanden Hoogen Yearbook Publications Adviser: Vicki Quinn and Amanda Van De Yacht.

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