I like being able to see things. I’m extremely near sighted. Without my glasses or contact lenses, the world is a blurry mush, like walking around in one of Monet’s paintings. Each morning, I get to step between these worlds, from the undefined to the crisp as I put my contact lenses on. Once the contacts are in, I mostly take this crisp vision for granted. Except, every couple of months, when I go to the doctor for a glaucoma checkup. Glaucoma is an eye condition that eats away at your vision. It starts at the edges and works its way in. At each of those visits, I go in a little anxious, hoping that I won’t be hearing bad news.
A couple of days ago, I got an irritation in my right eye, so I’ve been wearing my glasses rather than the contacts. That would be fine, except my glasses are a prescription behind. I can mostly see, but not the fine details. I can see fine enough to walk around, but not the subtleties. The details come to a blur just as I reach out to them, like grapes just beyond my reach. I feel disabled. Something vital to the way I make photographs is gone. It’s frustrating.
I’m currently in Port Huron, Michigan, at the beginning of a two month photographic road trip. Rather than taking pictures, I’ve spent the day trying to find an ophthalmologist with an opening in their schedule.
When people view my photographs, sometimes they’ll comment that I have “good eyes”. On days like today, I mourn a little over the goodness of my eyes. It is really good to be able to see. By seeing I get to make pictures and by making pictures, I strive to see the world even deeper.
Two women came to visit once when I was exhibiting my work. One of the women had her arm linked around the other’s as if being guided. As they viewed the photographs, one of the women would pause to comment on each image. “This photograph has several small branches that are dancing around each other. There’s an airy softness, but there’s also crisps bits pink as the lines lead to small flowers.” After a few images, it occurred to me what was happening and I was deeply honored. Her companion was blind. The sighted woman was being her eyes, so that they could both see the photographs. She was, in the truest sense, giving my work to her friend. They had eyes to see.
Update: I got in to see an eye doctor, and everything is fine. He pulled a bit of fleshy growth (ugh!) out of my eye and put me on some antibiotic drops. Contacts can go back in the next morning. Onward to Michigan’s Upper Peninsula.
