In the Stomach of a Damselfly

IN THE STOMACH OF A
DAMSEL FLY
(A BOAT ZINE!)
New Harmony High School
and The Paper Boat Project
(A BOAT ZINE)

These pieces have formed
the sixth layer of the hull of a paper boat.

INDEX
THE LADY IN
WHITE
PIE
THE EVIL
STRAWBERRY
QUEEN
THREE SHORTS
GETTING READY
FOR TURTLE
COVE
CATS IN SPACE
(and a few others)
SHORT STORIES
/ VISUAL ART
/ LOUD TURTLE
COVE GIRLS
FLACA
WINTER SKY
DRAGONFLY,
DRAGONFLY...
MOSQUITO
WINGS FLAP-
PING (and a few
others)
VISUAL ART
Everyone
Mike Bailey
Everyone
Zoey Miller
Kyren Augustin
Everyone
Elaina Carter
Jacelynn Guzman
Andrew Vandegrift
Isabella Chauvin
Everyone
Kahi Augustin
Layout by Soleil Garneu and Zaferhan Yamru

INTRODUCTION
Chris Staudinger
What you are about to read in this zine are the musings
and tales of nine young people who spent two nights in
a remote lodge on the edge of the Manchac marshes.
The place is called Turtle Cove Environmental
Research Station. It’s giant old wooden camp that is
only accessible by boat and is reportedly haunted by the
spirit of the old businessman who secluded himself in
the lodge and eventually died there. To my knowledge,
we did not meet his spirit, but we did meet otters and
other beings which you will soon meet in this zine. We
spent three days and two nights canoeing and walking
the long boardwalks that extend out of the property,
wondering about the man who built the lodge, the
people who cut down the cypress forest, and cats in
space. We observed the marshes, the creatures in the
mud beneath the marshes, the migrating birds, and
piles of scat from the previous night’s visitors drying
in the sun.
As we wrote and drew, we took our cues from
flow in nature: the patterns of balance, growth and
decomposition, drought and floods that created what
we saw around us, and we asked: what moves us? What
are we moving towards? Where are we going? What do
we want to make?
With our work, we tried to bring back pieces of this
place, keeping in mind that nature doesn’t care about
what is “good” or “the best.” Nature makes and makes
and makes and makes and makes and makes, and if
something sticks, then great, and if it doesn’t, then who
cares? The sun will come up blazing in the morning,
and something else will sprout anew. Nature may seem
gentle and perfect and careful, but it does so like a
firehose: a single black willow tree, for example, can

spread hundreds of thousands of seeds in a single year
down a flooding river, and it’s possible that when the
water recedes, only one of those seeds will actually
produce a sapling, or maybe none or nine or a few
thousand.
These pieces have given strength to the hull of the
paper boat by forming its sixth layer of words and
stories. The boat itself has moved and flowed and
changed over time. The frame was originally built in
2015 by my dad and I as an object to hold stories from
Hurricane Katrina and the ten years that had passed.
It’s moved from my family and friends, through
community, to its new home at New Harmony, a
school dedicated to the ideas and practices of coastal
restoration. In the process, the boat has become a place
for all kinds of Louisiana water stories, from the 2016
floods to Kevin (the otter) Oscar Myers and alligators
with laser beams shooting out of their eyes. After one
final layer and some finishing work, the students from
New Harmony, who have put a lot of love and work
into the construction of this boat, will take it to their
new school building on the banks of Bayou St. John,
and hopefully you’ll see some of them paddling this
boat through the water where it came from.
Doesn’t Matter
Kahi Augustin

THE LADY IN WHITE
An exquisite corpse story
written by everyone
She was as soft as a baby nutria, that’s because her
mom brushed her hair 100 strokes before she went to
bed. It made her feel like a princess.
I am groot. I am groot. I am groot. I am groot. I am
groot.
She’s different. She helps me, makes my life easier.
She takes the stress off my mind, that fair complected
girl with the hazel eyes and her lips taste like
honeydewmelon.
They walked for hours along the railroad tracks, until
they came to a stop of the biggest castle.
Why is there love? Love for food, travel, people?
People why?
The sky opened up and came into the sky where
this haunted house in the middle of nowhere, only
accessible by boat, where the counselors hid a dark
dark secret.
And then an Alaskan Bullworm appeared and she
dropped her Venti frappe.
“HALT!” she shouted, but the animal continued on
its way, its hind quarters swinging back and forth and
its tail swishing the ground behind. The guard could
have pursued the andimal. It wasn’t moving very fast.
But her pay level wasn’t high enough for that, she
didn’t think, so she never told a soul about the nutria,
or what he stole from her boss, who was too busy to
notice anyway.
As bullwinkle floated in space, he wondered if he
would ever get home.
The death of their Father scared them, of course. It
was only natural, killing a father isn’t easy, but neither
was getting caught.
Look at her beak! And the sounds she makes with it.
I’ve never seen such a large beak or such crazy sounds.
What should I name this wild bird? I’ll call her Miss
Kitty.

AN UNKNOWN RIVER
Unknown
How can you tell a story, if you don’t have no glory?
They don’t know what to say. They don’t know how
to act. They’ll never know the truth, of who I came
to be. They’ll never know I was born of fire, and grew
in the cypress trees. They may never know I swam
in the bayous of Louisiana, or that I was born of
freedom, of beauty and grace. They only know I was
born with Passion, and fire in my soul. I was born my
own person, one they’ll never know.
An unknown river is a dangerous river. It feasts on
the vulnerable. It preys on the weak. Its sharp waves
and simple color attracts tourists and one another,
to win against the river is to be cautious and slow
because what a river does not see, a river does not
know, although a river sees all.

PIE
Mike “3OE” Bailey
I know you see me and I see you
It takes two people to walk it through
In the coldest weather forever
We should always be together
No matter what happen to us
I will always love you.
Because your heart wasn’t hard
It was soft
Like a feather
Forget the other girls
Cause I will never compare you
And I know sometimes you be fed up
But don’t we always work it out with each other?
I was so glad that I met you
Because without you I would be messed up,
Somewhere down in the gutter
But I’m glad that I got lucked up
Because when I got you I was real bugged up
And I don’t cheat
So no such thing as being caught up.
Look at me
In my eyes
I would tell you no lies.
If I was able to give you my heart
I would cut a slice
Like piece of pie.

Wild Iris
Elaina Carter

THE EVIL
STRAWBERRY QUEEN
An exquisite corpse story
written by everyone
The girl who loved. The girl who was humble. The girl
who loved the world. The girl who...
And then they awaken to their death in the coffin
and yeeked, shaboy, shabow, kapoom! Why has this
madness occurred???
Once she realized the truth: the truth about her
cheating husband, she he had been having a secret
love affair with the local otter (gasp!!)
“Seventeen million of them?” she asked. “Yes, exactly
seventeen million and no more, and no less.” And the
ground was covered completely with their droppings.
You could see no grass and no ground. Just dung from
the migration of these magical creatures, which had
passed in the night.
“This dung,” she said, “will turn the earth gold, and
we will eat it.”
The happy bird sang all day and night until his voice
was sore, the one rested and sang again.

THREE SHORTS
Zoey Miller
The Alligator Snapping Turtle
I was once fierce and ferocious. No one dared defy
me underwater, the fish they feared me. I would
say I ruled over the small and sometimes big, but
as I began to age, I Started slowing down, but I still
held my ground, for I am strong and mighty and I
will not be overthrown. These humans are trouble
makers. I constantly have to worry about them and
they eventually got the best of me. I tried with all my
might to fight, but soon they just made it night. And
from that slumber I never woke, my subconscious
fading. I was no longer strong and mighty, but
vulnerable and soft. I was once more than that until
I had to be broken down into nothing. I must say I
lived a very honorable life.
Eugene the Tadpole
I can’t believe some crazy alien took me away. I was
just living my best life before I decided to start my
journey into froghood. Now I am stuck with all
these crazies trying to eat me!
Harold the Turtle
As I sit here, sunbathing on my tree branch, some
noisy loud something zooms by and nearly gives me
a heart attack! Yes I am forty years old, but I still
have life. I haven’t kicked the bucket yet, Old Man
Jenkins!!! Anyway, I’ve fallen off my log and Brad
the Beetle, my neighbor, and his unnecessarily large
waterdog, George the Alligator, came and took my
spot. Curse you! Dang humans always ruining my
sunbathing and preventing me from enjoying my
nice warm log.

Pigeon
Kahi Augustin

GETTING READY
FOR TURTLE COVE
Kyren Augustin
OH SHOOT DARN FREAK
My shirt my shoes my pants my FEET
Went to the bathroom and now I have to PEE
Got on a boat and then I felt FREE
My emotions got the best of me and now Im feeling
a little
Now that I’ve left I’m feeling
RELIEVED

Cat in Space
and a few others...
Exquisite corpse stories written by
everyone
...He notices that his partner is no longer awake,
what a surprise, he normally falls asleep before him.
He drifts into sleep, thinking of the day he’s had,
wishing his partner wakes up, knowing he won’t.
It felt very rough to the touch. Somehow, it was
prickly, spiny, splintery, pokey, and almost hurtful.
And not to mention the horrible smell!
The wind could never trust the trees to keep their
secrets, so the wind just stopped blowing and went
away forever, which caused the breeze to become
depressed, and they slowly died.
I’m not sure why I even asked her. I knew it was a
bad idea. I do that kinda stuff all the time: do something
even though I know it’s a bad idea.
The Hollow Home
As the apple fell from the sky, the woman came and
yelled, “Ahhh,” and she disappeared. Kabow.
Who would have guessed that something like that
could have happened? How could a vampire fall
in love with a werewolf? The night ended quietly,
no more laughter, her songs sang. Body scattered
around the yard.
Cat in Space
This beautiful fair complected girl that has hazel eyes.
She sat there silently, a grimace on her face. She started
breathing harder than normal and soon she was out.
And that was that. As soon as it was over, it was
almost as if nothing had even happened. How could
something that at one moment so life-changing
simply come to pass?

SHORT STORIES
Elaina Carter
Man and Mountains
Szua Lan Lee walks the mountains everyday. Wishing
to grow stronger and stronger. He prays to the god of
strength, whose creature form was a lion that walks
the Earth. The lion is the most beautiful of them all,
White fur shines so bright it hurts the man’s eyes.
Szua Lan Lee was drawn to the glowing spooky hazelyellow-green-blue-ish
great big eyes. He was not
afraid for he knew what was to come
The god of strength in it’s powerful-lion form speaks,
break the silence “State what you’ve come here for”.
Gar’s Life
Summer swamp days filled with endless amounts of
fun. Gators all lined up on shore. The biggest gator
gets all the attention. They walk with a proud Strut,
back flexed wide. Talk and strong as rocks. While I am
just a Gator Gar the ugly cousin as you can see.
Summer Swamp Days
Hot like a sauna. Humid but I don’t mind. I mind the
flowing steel bubbles interpreting my sun bathing.
They speed by, and flood my home. I’ve seen some of
those weird looking creatures leaving trash in front of
my home.
I Kevin (the otter) Oscar Myers, am the one who
keeps this place safe. This is my home and my swamp.

FLACA
Jacelynn Guzman
Dancing. Parties.
My mom likes to cook this soup, pozole, she always
has to make tostadas with it. We all put chile in our
soup. I’ve helped her cook it, but I suck at cooking.
She makes it for Christmas and New Years. It makes
me feel close. It smells like tortillas. The only time we
sit down together with my family is to eat posole.
My grandpa, every morning, watches his telenovelas
on telemundo, you can hear the fighting in the
background while you eat breakfast.
The Virgin Mary. Candles. Altar.
For dia de los muertos my mom makes a special altar.
Thinking that there is an afterlife and that the person
that you lost is next to you is cool. But ghosts scare
me.
Bachata. Horchata.
Helping my mom make tortillas. Wet the masa til its
soggy, form it in a ball and put it in the press.
My mom loves Prince Royce.
I used to hate my Mexican culture. People at my
old school would call me white girl. They would ask
“Is your dad illegal? Is your mom illegal? Are you
illegal?” I appreciate my culture now. My culture is
fun. The way we present ourselves if different. My
grandpa has family in Mexico City that I have visited
when I was little. Staying in an adobe house, riding
horses. My grandma would sleep in the rocking chair.
My grandpa would wake up and eat beans and eggs
and coffee. We didn’t have much but in that moment
surrounded by the people you know care for you it
doesn’t really matter.

WINTER SKY
Andrew Vandegrift
Ear Ya
Elaina Carter

DRAGONFLY
DRAGONFLY,
OH WHERE DID YOU
GO?
Isabella Chauvin
Entry One
Dragonfly dragonfly, where are you? On a cypress
knee, or under my shoe? Past the Nutria, past the
tupelo, all the the marshes and boardwalks. All past
the tourists with the cameras and daiquiris and beads
on their necks. Fly back to home, to the swamp we
may no longer know.
Entry Two
I the Cottonmouth may have a bad name, but how
would you like humans coming and stomping on
your fame? All I do is bask in the sun, catching small
creatures for food and good fun. Dragonfly’s flutter
with birds of a feather, and duck hunters hunt if
there’s good weather, but the hung up my cousin like
Halloween decoration, with Terry Jerry and my great
nanny Sue. So I hide in the bush till the moon is due.
Entry Three
Why did my mamma birth me as a Minow? Mamma
please tell me.
Why did my daddy never teach me to swim? Papa
please tell me.
My granny don’t visit me, my nanny don’t wish me
happy birthday, though I don’t care. I have no business
to tell, no place to be.
Except for the stomach of the DamselFly.

Entry Four
Hop Hop Hop, watch me grow. From a Tadpole, to
a great big Frog, I eat all the bugs, that pass my nose.
With my long long tongue, and my slippery skin, I
hop and I catch, and I swim and I relax.
Hop Hop Hop, there I go, Hop Hop Hop, watch me
grow.
Entry Five
Dragonfly’s flutter, and shoot our butter, wait that’s
not right, do they stay out at night?
Maybe they sing, or like wasps they sting. They’re
cannanalistic, how fantastic. I think they eat gators,
with leftovers for later.
Mister Owl
Kahi Augustin

MOSQUITO WINGS
FLAPPING and a few
others...
Exquisite corpse stories written by
everyone
The truth behind Turtle Cove
I could not believe it! A cat in space! I’ve been living
in space for eighty-seven thousand years and I’ve only
met fish, reptiles, and mammals of the canine variety,
and now on March 26th 2999, I meet at a fluffy yellow
cat!
And as the alligator that can shoot lasers out of its
eyes and angry cats out its tail, it realized its life was
pointless and he became sad.
The settlers found land they feel is appropriate but
they soon realized a few small problems: 1) there is no
water, 2) there is a very large shadow in a corner with
nobody to follow.
Whenever they walked into a room it’s as if the clock
stood still, as if the air thickened, as if everyone
suddenly felt all emotions at once.
When I finally saw her she seemed so happy but I
know she was just smiling through her pain.
The Sounds kept her up at night. Everything was
amplified: mosquito wings flapping, dust gathering,
the moon shining. Maybe it wasn’t sounds keeping her
up but deep Sensations. She could feel the movement
of the Earth.
Then the guy jumped off the bridge for no reason.
That girl that changes you. That girl that knows you
more than ever. That fair-complected girl with the
hazel eyes and her lips taste like honeydew melon.She
touched the rose bush, and pricked her finger, “Ow!”
she yelped and shed a tear.
Orange is bright as my day. Strawberries the fruit of
my soul. Grapes your purple color I hate, but you’re
sweet taste I love so great. Pineapple your tanginess
makes you my queen. Apples your crunch make me
want to cry. Ohhh fruits. Oh how I love you!

LOUD TURTLE COVE
GIRLS
Elaina Carter
Girl laughing loudly
Turtle Cove Girls
DYING with tears
in their eyes one girl says
SHH!!! Before Kitty come inside.
This zine and the retreat that inspired it would not
have been possible without the work of Katherine
O’Connor, host of Dippin It With Kitty, and her
co-hosts, Aubrey Edwards, Matt Johnson, Eleanor
Warner, and Ross Harmon, who revealed the many
and muddy creatures which inhabit the marshes.
Special thanks to Dr. Rob Moreau of Turtle Cove
Environmental Resarch Station for hosting this
arts retreat.