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Progressively Blind Photography
As someone on the cusp of complete blindness, I’ve found joy and frustration in equal measure within the vibrant online communities for the blind and visually impaired. Social media groups buzz with stories of adaptation, innovation, and triumphs over adversity, reminders that we are not defined by our lack of sight but rather our spirit. This morning, whilst scrolling through my feed, I stumbled upon a post from Blind New World that caught my attention. It linked to an article in Amateur Photographer titled, “How Can a blind photographer take such great photos? Find out here.” As a photographer who’s been chasing light and shadow for nearly 40 years, selling prints and services for two decades of that time, any whisper of a fellow blind photographer pulls me in like a moth to a flame.
I double tapped the link, settled back, and let VoiceOver voice paint the words across my mind. At first, a smile tugged at my lips. Here was someone like me, turning limitation into art. But as the article unfolded, that smile faded into a thoughtful frown. The photographer in question, Gary, isn’t blind, he’s visually impaired, navigating the world through a haze of blurriness that, while challenging, still grants him glimpses of clarity I can envy. Don’t get me wrong, I am genuinely thrilled for Gary. His work is remarkable, a testament to persistence and creativity in the face of adversity.
Yet, I could not shake a quiet pang of disappointment. The title’s promise of a “blind” photographer felt like a gentle sleight of hand, one that blurred the lines between our experiences in a way that left me feeling a tad unseen. It’s a small thing, perhaps, but it highlights a broader truth I’ve pondered often: visibility in the photography world, especially for those of us with disabilities, often hinges on connections, contexts, and sometimes, a certain alignment with the cultural and political currents.
From my own perspective, I’ve watched patterns emerge in the stories that break through and get attention. Time and again, the blind photographs who grace magazine pages or TED stages seem to hail from he art world or carry a progressive left wing banner. It’s an observation born of countless hours of reading articles and being involved in photography for decades. These individuals often arrive at photography with a pre-existing platform, galleries whispering their name or networks amplifying their voice through he lense of activism. In an industry where “edgy” and “avant-garde” can open doors, a narrative laced with political fervor for the left or artistic pedigree travels far. It’s the old adage of “it’s not just what you, but who you know”.
I write all of this not with bitterness, but with humility and the hope that one day I will get recognized for my work, not for a political stance. I’ve captured deserts that whisper of ancient secrets, canyons where rivers carve stories in stone, and everyday moments in parks. Like Gary, I shoot in black and white and love contrast. My work doesn’t sell. I have done everything possible to get my work out amongst the public, but it hasn’t caught the eye of a sponsor or a spotlight article.
The gentleman in this article says that he can’t use film cameras any more. That’s a choice. My vision is far worse than his, and I still shoot film and develop it at home. It’s not easy, but I do it because I love it.
What do you think? Have you encountered a “blind” story that didn’t match the label?
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White Cane Day Disaster
Today, October 15th, marks White Cane Safety Day, a national observance in the United States that’s been celebrated annually since 1964. It’s more than just a date on the calendar; it’s a powerful reminder of the incredible contributions blind and visually impaired individuals have made to the world, from innovators like Louis Braille, who revolutionized reading for the blind, to countless artists, scientists, and leaders who’ve shaped society because of their unique perspectives. But it’s also a stark call to action for all of us, especially motorists. The white cane isn’t just a mobility tool, it’s a symbol of invisibility. It screams, “We can’t see—please see us.”
As someone who relies on that very cane every day, I set out this afternoon with a mix of pride and purpose, heading to the post office on what should have been a routine errand. White Cane Day always stirs a bit of optimism in me, a hope that awareness will bridge the gaps in understanding. But reality has a way of humbling us, doesn’t it? Let me share what happened, because these aren’t just stories, they’re the everyday truths that underscore why this day matters so much.
I approached the crosswalk near my neighborhood, cane tapping rhythmically against the pavement, ears tuned to the symphony of traffic and distant engines. That’s when it happened, an electric car glided up silently, like a ghost in the machine. I stepped into the crosswalk and suddenly, a sharp honk pierced the air. The driver had the nerve to blast their horn at me, as if I were the one at fault for not leaping out of their path. I didn’t hear the car approaching; those whisper-quiet EVs are a nightmare for anyone navigating by sound alone. My heart raced, but I stood my ground, cane firmly planted. Blind pedestrians always have the right of way, and moments like this? They’re a brutal reminder that not everyone knows or respects that rule.
Shaken but determined, I continued to the post office, weaving through the parking lot with careful sweeps of my cane. As I walked behind what I assumed was an empty pickup truck, listening for any signs of life, the engine cranked to life. The driver, a kind-hearted lady as it turned out, must’ve been in a rush. Before I could react, shout, or sidestep, she began backing up. Thud. A light bump against my side, enough to send a jolt through me but not enough to knock me down. I might have a bruise blooming on my hip tomorrow, but honestly, no big deal in the grand scheme. She apologized profusely and asked if I was okay. “I was looking right at my backup camera,” she explained, “but you were in its blind spot.” She promised to double-check her mirrors next time, and I could tell the encounter shook her more than it did me. It’s encounters like this that humanize the statistics, turning abstract awareness into real empathy.
These aren’t isolated incidents; they’re the threads in a larger tapestry of hesitation that keeps many blind people sidelined from the streets. No matter how rigorous our Orientation and Mobility (O&M) training is, learning to navigate intersections, gauge traffic flow, and trust our senses, there’s always the wildcard: distracted drivers, overlooked signals, and yes, those insidious electric cars that sneak up without a whisper. It’s why we pause at curbs a little longer, why we grip our canes a little tighter. White Cane Day shines a light on this, urging society to not just recognize our achievements but to actively make space for our safety.
So, on this October 15th, let’s lean into the day’s dual spirit. Celebrate the blind trailblazers who’ve enriched our world, from Helen Keller’s advocacy to modern tech wizards coding accessibility into our digital lives. And to every driver out there: Scan those blind spots, yield at crosswalks, and remember what that white cane means. See us. Hear us. Make room for us. Because in a world that’s increasingly quiet and fast, awareness isn’t optional, it’s essential.
If you’ve got your own White Cane Day stories or tips for safer streets, drop them in the comments below. Let’s build a more visible path together.
Stay safe out there.
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Affordable Cameras
In my venture to find the ultimate deal on a film camera, I have come across numerous offers, some may have seemed too good to be true.
That’s like that old saying goes, if a deal seems too good to be true, it probably is. I am more than half a century old and have had to learn this the hard way, as my journey through photography has been filled with lessons learned from both successes and mistakes.
The Minolta srT line of cameras can be had with a lens for $30 plus shipping, making them an incredibly accessible option for beginners and enthusiasts alike. Different models offer various features, but they are all great cameras that have stood the test of time. The lenses that come with these cameras are known for their accuracy and sharpness, capturing images that are true to life, as they say. That being said, if you are looking for that ethereal feel in your photographs, you’ve got to try a Pentax as well, as they offer a unique quality that can elevate your work significantly.
The Pentax ME Super can be purchased on eBay for between $30-$50 with a lens, which is another steal in the world of film photography. They are equipped with full auto exposure control, yet also offer manual control with two convenient buttons on the top plate, allowing for flexibility in shooting conditions. The K1000 stands out, of course, because of its reputation and usability, but they are selling for upwards of $200 at present in December 2024—showing how highly regarded they are among film photographers. However, the ME Super presents a nice compromise and serves as a great camera for the price, combining quality and affordability seamlessly.
An older, but superior in my opinion, Spotmatic, can sometimes be acquired within the same price range and usually comes bundled with one of the amazing Takumar lenses. While these cameras may often show signs of age and require some TLC, they are well worth the time and effort you invest in them.
Another hidden gem from behind the iron curtain are the Praktica cameras. The MTL line of SLRs was amazing in its own right, blending functionality with reliability. We all take a chance when purchasing one of these cameras, but when they work, they perform exceptionally well; the lenses are absolutely stunning and sharp, producing images of remarkable quality. The Zenit cameras were good as well, though their lenses were generally regarded as superior to the camera bodies, which often seemed to present a problem.
Regardless of what you end up with, the essential point is to get out there and shoot some film. My entire goal is to inspire you, the reader, to rise up from your seat and start your photography journey. Whether you’re using a $5 point-and-shoot from a charity shop or a vintage SLR, the important thing is that you’re actively capturing moments; at least you’re doing more than the guy that talks about it all the time without ever picking up a camera. Get out there, embrace the adventure, and shoot!You May Also Like
Why the Voigtlander Vito Line of Folders should be Treasured!
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Why the Voigtlander Vito Line of Folders should be Treasured!
For decades, I have been a fan of Voigtlander’s styling, engineering, and glass. It is rare to get it all in one package, particularly when considering the meticulous attention to detail that these cameras exude from their original designs. The lightweight and compact size of the original pre-WWII Vito design is stunning, making it an ideal companion for both amateur and seasoned photographers who prefer to travel light without compromising on quality.
Whilst looking through charity eBay auctions one early morning, I happened across a well-worn but functional Pre-WWII VITO I. Though it had the original owner’s name inscribed on its top plate, as they used to do, it looked great and carried with it a sense of nostalgia that only an antique can offer. I put in a ridiculously small bid and won the camera, feeling a thrill of excitement about the history it held within its frame.
That little Vito I started a love affair with these little folders that has yet to fade. About a month after I purchased the first one, I picked up a Vito II for practically nothing at a charity shop, a lucky find that further fueled my passion for these intricate machines. The Vito I and II both have the same options in shutters, the Compur, which offers an incredible 1/500th of a second max shutter speed, and the Prontor, which offered a max shutter speed of 1/300th of a second, showcasing the impressive engineering of the era. The pre and post-war Vito I’s had a very large shutter bar button that stretched across the entire folding ledge, a distinctive feature that added to its unique aesthetics. With the Vito II, they changed this to a simple button, a design choice that echoed the innovations taking place in photography at the time.
The issue with the bar is that it can cause blur in your images at slower shutter speeds due to having to press down harder on the bar, a quirk that some users might find frustrating. Nevertheless, the lenses on the Vito I, pre and post WWII, were uncoated, which, while charming in its own right, means they can produce softer images compared to modern standards. The Vito II lens, on the other hand, is coated for color film and adds contrast to black and white film, enhancing the overall photographic experience and expanding creative possibilities.
Since I started my little collection, I have purchased the pre-WWII Vito, a mint Vito II, another Vito II with a cold shoe adapter on it, and a Vito IIa, each camera presenting its own story and character. Most people say the Vito III, with its larger f/2.8 lens, is the best out of this bunch, but that depends on your perspective, as each model offers different advantages that can appeal to various styles of photography.
I am loving the Vito IIa for its modern conveniences. It has an advance lever, instead of winding knobs, which adds a touch of ease to the shooting process. To rewind the film, you press a button and a winding knob pops up, an exciting little spring loaded mechanism that makes me smile every time I do that. The engineering in these little cameras is absolutely outstanding for its time; it reflects an era when craftsmanship took center stage, and each component felt lovingly crafted.
The original is still my favorite for walking around taking happy snappy pictures with. It doesn’t have the contrast and clarity of later Vito’s, but it has an enchanting finesse and an epic history that resonate with how photography was experienced back then. Each click of the shutter reminds me of the countless stories captured through its lens, collecting moments from a time long past.
My beautiful and loving wife endures my love of these old cameras and photography, never failing to support my passion even when it may seem excessive. I made a promise that if I didn’t use a camera regularly, I’d sell it, so I will be selling at least one of my Vito’s soon to make room for new acquisitions or to fund further photographic adventures. But, I will not be getting rid of the original or the IIa, as both hold a special place in my heart and represent more than just a piece of equipment; they are vessels of creativity and history. Of course, all of my cameras are for sale for the right price, though parting with them will always evoke a mix of nostalgia and respect for the legacy they embody.
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Affordable Cameras
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Windsor 35
This incredibly quirky little rangefinder camera is a lot of fun to shoot. The Windsor 35 was developed and manufactured by Tōkō Shashin K.K, a.k.a. TKC, in 1953. TKC made quite a few cameras in the 40’s and 50’s, showcasing their creativity and innovation in the rapidly advancing field of photography. After WWII, they designed the Mightyy, a 17.5 mm paperback film camera, which was indicative of their forward-thinking approach. By the early 1950s, they were building a name for themselves and establishing a reputation amongst photography enthusiasts.
There is not a lot of information on the company, which adds a layer of mystery to their products and makes them even more intriguing for collectors. If any of you have any additional info on TKC or their other models, please let me know, as I’m eager to learn more about this fascinating brand. The Windsor 35 is not just a well-designed piece of machinery; it is a compact rangefinder camera that blends aesthetics with functionality. It is quirky, especially the rewind mechanism, which adds a unique character. To rewind the film, a person has to hold down the rewind button and turn the knurled rewind knob, creating a tactile and engaging experience. This is not a bad thing, but after rewinding twenty or so frames, you might wish there was another alternative to streamline the process.
I genuinely enjoyed shooting with the Windsor 35. There is no light meter in a camera of this era, which can be a bit daunting for new users. A person can buy a cold shoe light meter that works great with it or use an app on a mobile device, bridging the gap between vintage charm and modern technology. I use the Pro Light Meter app most of the time, and it has never let me down; it is always accurate and reliable, making it an excellent companion for my shooting adventures.The shutter goes from Bulb mode to 1/200th of a second, offering a variety of options for exposure. The shutter is crisp and in time on my model, delivering results that inspire confidence. The lens is a sharp 50mm f/3.5 T.K.C Color Sygmar lens, which produces images with a pleasing depth and clarity. F/3.5 was standard for the time for any rangefinder, though it still provides excellent performance in various lighting conditions.
That may not be a big enough aperture for some people, especially those who prefer shooting in low-light situations, but really, are you going to be doing street shooting or portraits in the dark? I used a flash with mine at a vibrant Christmas party and got amazing results from this little camera, showcasing its potential to adapt and perform well even in challenging environments. The rangefinder is accurate and the focusing system is smooth, making it a joy to use for both seasoned photographers and beginners. Like all tools, each one takes a bit of time to get used to it, but especially with a camera as user-friendly as this, it doesn’t take long to master its quirks and features.
This little camera is sleek and a conversation piece, often attracting attention and compliments wherever I take it. It also is somewhat rare, with limited availability in today’s market. There is not much information on these cameras or their manufacturer, adding to their allure among enthusiasts and collectors. If I held onto this one, it would be worth a lot more one day, given its uniqueness and the nostalgia it carries. But, I have a rule about cameras: if I haven’t used it in a year, I have to sell it. I haven’t stuck to that rule of late, but I’m consciously reinitiating this guideline. I’m selling this one on to someone who will genuinely enjoy it, giving it a new life in the hands of another creative individual. Besides, I have my eye on another rangefinder that I will hopefully talk more about soon, which will bring fresh experiences and new stories to capture.
This camera is the later version and has a flash sync port, which is a valuable addition for creative photography. I tested this feature and it does work well, enhancing the versatility of the camera. The shutter is crisp, and the aperture blades are smooth as butter, allowing for seamless adjustments while shooting. I currently have it listed on eBay for those interested in adding this charming camera to their collection. Go check it out; you may be the winning bidder who gets to explore its creative possibilities. If you have any questions about it, or if you’re curious about my experience with it, feel free to leave your comment or question below. Thank you for your interest!
