Jacob Deason

I am a boat dweller and a crusty barnacle. I cling to hulls and hug whole souls of people holding arms wide open...or at least I try. Sometimes my mind gets wrapped in things and I forget to be the best me. I find pieces of the painting commonly rearranged like "someones been sitting in my chair," and "this bed is juuuuust right." But time can be found as easily as you lay sleeping. The salt in the sea can suddenly vanish as human beans wave a magician's glove. And my barnacle self can breathe easy, the tide recedes, and fluid breezes fill my lungs. Hi, I say.