My grandfather took me blackberry picking along the property's edge. We carried gallon ice cream tubs, stained from years of foraging. I was never able to fill mine even halfway. With every berry picked for the tub, I rewarded two for myself. My grandfather said the most delectable blackberries grew elusively high; far too high for the reach of fervent 10-year-olds. He then teased me by picking a rich, plump blackberry the size of my thumb, letting me taste what I could not reach. A cruel joke to me at the time but thinking of this memory now, I can't help but smile.He passed away on August 15th, 2022, battling Leukemia.He was a strong, traditional man who valued honor and integrity. He taught me accountability, reverence, and how to shoot. But he was also generous with a loving heart, and always willing to help when asked. 'Blackberries' is a visual conversation with my grandfather; documenting the life he left behind in Corvallis, Oregon.
