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Stuck
As I pen this entry, I hope it will mark the end of a series of “blind” updates for some time. Have you ever found yourself in an inescapable predicament? My dialogue will carefully omit any direct reference to my employer, a vast global entity. Before the devastating prognosis of my impending blindness, and the ensuing revocation of my driving privileges, I found fulfillment in my profession and thrived on a perfect work routine.
My earlier schedule had me traveling to a neighboring town for work, beginning at 5:00 AM and ending at 1:30 PM from Monday to Friday. My return home was typically around 2:00 PM, allowing me the luxury of a brief rest before tending to household duties and at times, preparing dinner for my wife, Deana. This routine suited us well, allowing us to enjoy our evenings together, and even catch a movie after her workday had concluded.
Following the dire revelation about my vision, I was compelled to request a transfer to a branch within walking proximity to my home. This transition was protracted, lasting a month, with three weeks in which I received no compensation. My role in the corporation pertained to merchandising—a field I had not sought academic training for nor anticipated finding enjoyable. However, my penchant for order, structure, and meticulous tasks seemed to align well with the demands of the role.
Despite my capability and experience to perform my job without sight, the company reassigned me to an in-store position, with working hours slated from 1:30 PM to 10:00 PM on arbitrary days. My wife’s schedule has her leaving for work at 8:00 AM, during which I stay with our dogs until she returns at lunch to drive me to work. Consequently, we have been deprived of the cherished evenings we once shared. My new role demands squinting at minute details, which results in intense eye strain and headaches by day’s end.
While my employer has fulfilled the legal obligations, their support has not extended beyond that. My objections to this decision are manifold. I am naturally inclined towards early mornings, valuing the ability to complete my workday ahead of time and spend evenings with my loved ones.
Pursuing alternative employment remains a viable option, yet I am faced with the dilemma that full disclosure of my visual impairment may render me unemployable. While part-time work is attainable, it would compromise my access to quality health insurance. The coverage I currently hold is excellent, but parting ways with my job or reducing hours would precipitate a twofold increase in insurance costs. My wife’s insurance plan does not cover dependents, which further immobilizes me in my current role.
My aspirations for financial support through my blog and magazine, alongside print sales, have yet to yield significant results, though I express my deepest gratitude to everyone who has engaged with my work.
Under South Carolina’s regulations, disability benefits are inaccessible to me until my vision constricts to 20 degrees or less; currently, it stands at approximately 40 degrees. The Commission for the Blind is a resource, but its primary focus is to ensure employment for the visually impaired. Despite these challenges, I am determined to persevere in the hope of a breakthrough, but the everyday struggle is real, with a mortgage and other bills aligning with the fiscal responsibilities that many of us face.
It is not my intent to lament my circumstances; however, I cannot ignore the reality of the corner I seem to be trapped in. I am contending with Septo Optic Dysplasia and Optic Atrophy, amongst a long list of other challenges, and yet I take solace in the fact that I’m still able to provide for my family—this is undeniably a positive. The unwavering support from my wife, Deana, has been nothing short of heroic, and her strength is a blessing for which I am eternally grateful.
Should anyone have practical suggestions for additional sources of income, I would be keen to hear them. We seek your ideas and assistance. While I seldom mention it, there is a tip jar situated on the right side of the blog—for those inclined to support my endeavors with the equivalent of a coffee, it would be greatly appreciated. In my forthcoming post, which you can expect on Monday, I will discuss my preferred and reasonably priced folding medium format camera.
While I have pursued photography as a business venture for several years, it has not been financially lucrative for me. The ordeal nearly overwhelmed me at times. Nevertheless, it is an endeavor that brings tranquility to my spirit. Its absence would leave a void within me — for it is intricately tied to my identity.
I am the individual who approaches others with enthusiasm about cameras, only to reveal that I am progressing towards blindness. This revelation often elicits surprise and confusion; however, I find a certain satisfaction in such reactions. People are strange, but so am I.
It is my intention to share my narrative with you, one that intertwines simplicity with complexity. I invite you to subscribe to this blog for further insights and to explore more of my photographic journey.
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Walking With a Blind Cane
Living with vision impairment involves constant learning and adaptation, and my recent experiences have truly highlighted this journey. Participating in orientation and mobility training with a specialist from Columbia was not just an educational endeavor, but a life-affirming one. The specialist displayed a remarkable combination of professional expertise and compassionate support that has empowered me in ways I hadn’t imagined possible.
Navigating the world without full sight is fraught with potential hazards. While the technical jargon is vast, the fundamental goal remains straightforward: avoid accidents, whether with vehicles, bicycles, or obstacles on the path. Mastery of the blind cane is crucial in this respect. The various tips that adorn the cane—a marvel of simple design—are surprisingly communicative, furnishing tactile feedback about the ground underfoot and the obstacles flanking the path.
A mundane commute can be a gauntlet for those with visual impairments. My daily journey involves a half-mile trek along a sidewalk that is not always in the best of repair. Here, the cane serves as an invaluable ally, probing the terrain for perils and helping me maintain a straight course. Transitioning from sidewalk to road signifies an escalation in risk, and it is here that a careful pace and keen hearing become my guardians against the dangers that quiet electric cars, like a Tesla, might present.
The complicated intersections are a particular concern. One such crossing I regularly navigate requires traversing four lanes of traffic, set at an unusual angle, lacking the guidance of audible pedestrian signals. Here, the life-saving virtues of patience and acute listening are never more apparent. The near-silent approach of electric vehicles heightens the peril, making it essential to rely upon one’s auditory senses to a degree that those with vision might find hard to fathom.
The message I wish to impart to drivers is one of vigilance and empathy. Keep watch for those of us with canes; these are not mere accessories but vital tools signaling the presence of a visually impaired or blind person navigating the byways and thoroughfares you share. I brandish my cane not just for personal navigation and safety but also as a clear signal to you, the driver, alerting you to my presence and my needs. This cane is for depth perception when negotiating rough terrain and a visible beacon to declare my visual limitations to the surrounding traffic.
Our roads, our paths, they are shared spaces. As participants in this communal realm, we bear a collective responsibility to ensure safety for all members, especially those who confront these spaces without the benefit of sight. The kindness drivers display in being mindful of visually impaired pedestrians like myself makes an indelible difference; it makes these journeys less daunting and the world a little more accessible, one thoughtful act at a time.
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Insignificant Leaf
In a previous discussion, I highlighted the inherent beauty contained within the minute details of our everyday lives. We find ourselves ensnared in the incessant pace of existence, perpetually striving to surpass the expectations laid out before us—both our own and those of others who hold stakes in our journey. This unyielding race often blinds us to the profound joys of life’s subtleties.
Consider the photograph presented in this post: a lone leaf, apparently inconsequential and one of a multitude. Yet, it poses a silent question—can we truly consider it insignificant? Each leaf weaves its own narrative, etched with intricate patterns and a distinctiveness that beckons for recognition. It stands out among its peers, its form imbued with a quiet personality. Dismissed by some as an inconsequential piece of foliage, we are compelled to ponder: does it genuinely lack value?
This leaf, in all its simplicity, is an artifact of divine craftsmanship. Though it may be flawed in the eyes of some, it remains a testament to God’s work. To contemplate whether it possesses rights would be to misinterpret its role. It is, at its core, a leaf—fulfilling its purpose within the grand tapestry of nature. Yet, it demands our appreciation just as a flower does, for its own sake and for the beauty it contributes to the world.
There is a profound lesson nestled among these subtleties: to decelerate our pace and cherish the seemingly insignificant elements that populate our lives. Much like this leaf, such moments and objects ask for nothing but a brief pause—a moment of contemplation, an ounce of gratitude. As my ability to see these details dwindles, their significance becomes amplified. The pine cone, the leaf, they are all fragments of a greater whole, pieces of a divine puzzle meant to be valued.
In time, my vision will diminish entirely. I urge you not to wait until the charm of sight or the grace of being eludes you—appreciate the splendors of creation now. Soak in the simplicity and the intricate detail bestowed upon us by God, and you will find a world rich with wonder, ripe for your admiration.
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Macro Details
As an enthusiast of the minute marvels in life, my fascination with macro photography isn’t merely a hobby—it’s a profound appreciation for the smaller details that often go unnoticed. The intricate details one can capture through this photographic technique are nothing short of magical. Each shot is a testament to my belief that the microcosm reflects the grandeur of the larger universe.
Through the lens, ordinary subjects are transformed into extraordinary spectacles. Take, for example, the humble pine cone featured in previous posts. To the casual observer, it’s merely a commonplace object scattered beneath the trees. However, my morning promenade through the concrete and natural elements of the city turns into a treasure hunt. I seek out these seemingly insignificant items to reveal their hidden narratives and sublime beauty that they’re eager to share with anyone willing to look closely enough.
I relish the use of my treasured Minolta Maxxum 50mm f/2.8 AF Macro lens, a pioneer of its time, integrating auto-focus capabilities that represented a significant step forward in photography. The Minolta Maxxum 7000, with which it was concurrently developed, may have gained widespread fame, yet this lens holds a special place in the history of photography equipment.
Despite its age and the occasional temperamental auto-focus—especially when dealing with subjects that demand the finesse of macro photography—I’ve learned to harness this characteristic in my work. I partner it with the robust Minolta Maxxum 9000, opting for manual control to ensure the precision required for capturing the smallest details with utmost clarity.
While the AF function is more cooperative when the subject is beyond two feet away, there is a certain charm and gratification that comes with manual focusing: the connection between the photographer, the camera, and the subject is intimate and intentional.
True, the lens boasts a plastic exterior, yet this does not detract from the exceptional images it helps produce. Instead, its lightweight design complements the tactile experience of photography, making it a joy to hold and operate. For anyone considering entering the realm of macro photography, this lens is both an affordable and excellent choice—if one can appreciate its historical context and are willing to manually engage with their subjects.
Equally impressive, though notably more costly, is the later 100mm f/2.8 macro lens, renowned for its improved auto-focus. It’s a brilliant piece of equipment for those looking to invest further in their passion for macro photography.
The process of capturing these photographs—vivid with detail, rich in story—is deeply fulfilling. Among these images, the photograph of my wife, Deana, stands out the most. Her beauty, both inside and out, is elegantly immortalized through this medium.
I’m eager to share more stories and photographs in the coming days. Despite the whirlwind that life often presents, with both work and events demanding my time, this blog remains a serene space where I can express my passions and connect with like-minded individuals.
Your support and interest in my work provide a source of motivation and gratitude that is deeply felt. The knowledge that my words resonate with readers fuels my continued journey into the art of macro photography and storytelling. Thank you for being a part of this journey with me.
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Life Update
Stability often seems like a figment of our imagination, especially when we attempt to establish any kind of routine or long-term plan. My intentions to diligently update the blog and encapsulate the beautiful world through my lens for the next magazine issue were thwarted by the indiscriminate whims of life.
Last week’s agenda was teeming with prospective posts and exploratory jaunts into the wild to capture those frozen moments in time. However, fate took an unexpected turn.
On the preceding Friday, as if on cue from an unwelcome script, a virulent sickness took hold of me. At that time, the nature of my malady was a mystery, but its impact was immediate and undeniable. I heeded my body’s distress signals, retreating early to seek the comfort of my bed’s embrace, where I lingered through the dark hours.
As Saturday dawned, I found myself no better off, wrestling with the relentless clutches of my unseen adversary. Yet, by sheer force of will on Sunday, Deana and I ventured out, attempting to bask in the revelry of Saint Patrick’s Day and to grasp at the slipping sands of my birthday celebration under the specter of my illness.
It wasn’t until Tuesday that clarity was afforded to me by a visit to the doctor. Their diagnosis? The formidable Flu, Type A. At 52, while not resigning to antiquity, I felt besieged as never before. The objective clause of the line made famous by Oppenheimer, “I’ve become death…”—resonated with me as I grappled with this unwelcome guest.
This ordeal wasn’t a mere skirmish but a prolonged siege—the kind that batters the gates with relentless ferocity from daybreak to nightfall. The flu typically embarks on its course with the unpredictability of a tempest, its rampage abating within a matter of days. Contrarily, this strain has held me captive in its tumultuous embrace, relenting only on its own enigmatic terms.
The manifestations of my ailment are numerous, an anthology of discomfort I wish not to impart in full detail. However, the most punishing of its arsenal has undoubtedly been the ceaseless coughing that steals the very air from my lungs.
The simple act of communication has been usurped by this viral scourge, leaving me unable to host Instagram live sessions without succumbing to fits of coughing that drain my strength and disrupt the dialogue.
In this taxing time, my wife, Deana, has been stoically by my side. She is the anchor in my storm, nurturing and understanding, even as she recovers from her bout of illness that seems to have found renewed vigor.
Rest assured, the rhythms of the blog shall find their tempo once again in the coming week. There is much on the horizon that I am eager to share, and my work on the website continues unabated. I extend my heartfelt gratitude to all for your patience and understanding during this unforeseen intermission. Thank you.
