Please forgive any terribly formed sentences, ridiculous spelling or horrific grammar that this post might contain, for I am a little bit on the tipsy side right now! I’ve just got back to my room at Beth’s house (the fantastically talented artist I always stay with when I’m in Clarkston who feels like a family member at this point), dropped off after a wonderfully boozy night at the valley’s most legendary bar - Hogan’s. Earlier on I was picked up by Taylor and Kevin, two of my absolute favourite people who both made me feel so welcome when I met them in 2018. But anyway! My main picture today is from my visit up to the top of Lewiston Hill; to the monument where my grandfather once stood, posing for a photograph - rifle in hand and in a jazzy suit. This portrait is one of the few pictures I grew up with of Joey. When I first came to Clarkston in 2015 and showed Beth my pictures of him, she instantly recognised this stone and directed me to it. Now it’s become somewhat of a pilgrimage for me every time I come back to visit this viewpoint over the sister cities: to see the same view that Joey once saw. Later in the day I hopped over to the Flavours of Clarkston event; a community event which sought to bring locals into downtown’s businesses by occupying stalls on the streets and having little giveaways. In one of these pictures above is a view on one of the crowds watching as a father and son played violin together on sixth street. ~~~~ #lewiston #clarkston #usa #history