Walk by faith, not by sight

Over a year ago, I did Orientation and Mobility training through the state. My O&M instructor and I walked for miles over several sessions, listening to traffic, learning routes, and learning how to navigate large intersections whilst being blind/visually impaired and using a cane. I listening to everything he said, followed his instructions, and advanced quickly. After a while, I could come and go with confidence. Keeping some form of independence is incredibly important. It is not always easy and can be very dangerous, but it is what we do. Blind people walk by faith, not by sight. The anxiety level that makes your heart pound the first time you step off the curb and across the road doesn’t go away. It is faith in God that gets me across a busy intersection.

I was using my cane every day, mainly to traverse rough terrain. When we moved, I stopped using it all the time. My vision has gotten a lot worse since we moved out here. I’ve avoided using the cane, as it implies that I’m completely blind. Roughly only 10% of blind people are completely blind. The rest of us see something. I have been blind in my left eye all of my life due to Septo-Optic Dysplasia. Several years ago, I started going blind in my right eye due to the same reason, but mainly due to Optic Atrophy caused by it. My vision has gotten so bad that I only have around 20 degrees of peripheral vision. Try to cover up your left eye and then try to look through a straw with your right eye. Then, try to do a normal task.

I am now fully embracing the use of the cane full time, and it has become an indispensable companion for navigating my daily adventures. I rely on it to get to work and to explore various spots around town. The great thing about living in Payson, Arizona, is that it’s a charming small town, and nearly everything is conveniently close by. My workplace is situated just a mile away from home, making my daily commute quite manageable. Additionally, my favorite coffee shop is only about half a mile from my doorstep, which I cherish for my morning pick-me-ups. I used to enjoy riding my electric bike, but unfortunately, it became increasingly risky for me to do so.

Speaking of that charming little coffee shop, I genuinely shocked everyone the very first time I walked in with my trusty cane in hand. I could faintly hear people chatting away from outside, all buzzing with conversation, but as soon as I stepped inside, an eerie quietness enveloped the space, as if the world had paused just for me. You could hear a pin drop, and I felt smaller by the second. I quickly ordered my usual coffee and then left, leaving behind the hushed stares. I wanted to use this experience as a notable example of the common person's reaction to my presence. I’m not dead, and I’m certainly not dying…at least not today!

If you “See” someone with a blind cane, don’t say, “I’m Sorry”. It’s OK. I’m walking with a smile. Say, “Hello”.

Don’t cry, please. That helps no one. I’m losing my sight. It sucks, but I’m going to kick blindness’ butt! And, Jesus Loves Me…and You!

Don’t ask me how I’m feeling. How are you feeling today? I’m not depressed. It’s all good. I’m just glad to be here.

A blind cane is a tool. Ask me about the cane. They make hundreds of different canes and tips to go on it. I’m a nerd, it’s true. Just like Voice Over on my iPhone, the cane assist me in getting from point A to point B. It is incredibly simple but incredibly helpful. I can feel every crack, crevice, pot hole, and gradient change. I don’t have depth perception, so when the grade changes, I need to know about it! Otherwise, I go for a tumble. Ask me how I know.

Adjusting to life with a cane takes some time. The O&M instructors teach us how to not get hit by a car, but they don’t teach us how to deal with the day to day interactions and crazy drivers. There are so many great people that offer to give me a ride or offer to get me across the street safely that any bad interactions with people are obliterated by kindness.

As I was on my way home today, I was told in a gut (GOD) sort of way to slow down and stop. So, I was able to see a car pulling out at an intersection. I almost walked around the car and on down the sidewalk. Within a few seconds, the car pulled out and a truck, hauling a trailer behind it, had to slam on its brakes to avoid the car. It almost jackknifed and the trailer ran up onto the sidewalk where I would have been walking. I didn’t see the entire incident, obviously, it was all a blur, once I heard the screeching brakes and turned and managed to focus, it was over with. Luckily, no one got hurt, but if I had not listened, I could’ve been killed or seriously injured. Trust your gut.

This blog will continue to be about photography but also the adventure of going blind.

My wonderful wife, Deana’s Creative Studio, is the reason I am able to get up each morning with a smile and look forward to the day ahead. She truly is such a kind, compassionate, and amazing Christian woman, and I feel incredibly blessed to call her my wife. She is not just my partner; she is also my greatest supporter and helper in all things. I remember jokingly mentioning while we were dating that one day she’d have to lead me around by my arm due to my vision changing. It’s unfortunate that my light-hearted joke is now coming to fruition, but thankfully, she doesn’t have to do it very often at all. Love you so much, Deana! :)

Living as the Wife of a Blind Photographer

It was April 22, 2023 when I married my best friend and the love of my life. The man who was blind in his left eye told me that one day he would be completely blind, but I did not mind, for I knew he loved me for me and would do anything to care for me and keep me safe. I even knew that he was losing the hearing in his right ear, and that would progress as well due to the illness called septo-optic dysplasia. I knew that my future as a wife would be different than the future of most wives, even with my own diagnosis of dry macular degeneration. But I didn’t fully understand how soon everything would start to change. After all, who can truly understand their future until they’re living in it?

We immensely enjoyed our honeymoon, taking photographs of beautiful Ireland with b&w film cameras and iPhones. I may have stolen his Pentax K1000 while we were in the Emerald Isle, but I also loved using my Olympus Trip 35 and Canon AE1 Program to photograph the awesomeness that is the home of some of our ancestors. I often photographed my new husband taking photographs because he is in a different world when he is behind a camera. He sees beauty where others do not, and captures it in a way that only the resultant photographs can explain. One of my favorite photographs is of him, stepping away from having just captured Belfast’s city hall building, with a smile only seen when he is in his element. I worry not because he has a smile reserved for me, one that lights up my days and warms my nights. But the smile he reserves for when he feels he got the best possible shot is completely different; unaltered joy with a hint of mischief. It’s like he knows a secret that only he will ever know.

January 23rd of 2024 rolls around and we visit a local eye doctor, one to whom a good friend had referred me. It was probably the most important eye exam of our lives, as it changed so much. I learned more about the macular degeneration from which I suffer and my husband, well, his world changed upside down. His eyesight was worse than I thought — he had been hiding how bad it was getting, but I think he was hiding it from himself as well. He was told to stop driving due to his very limited peripheral vision. And I also don’t think he knows how badly he missed so many of the letters he read on his eye exam. The E’s and N’s and P’s and O’s were so different than how he had perceived them. So we left the exams with prescriptions for new eyeglasses and a hurt in our hearts for my husband’s need to give up driving and what that meant for his career. I was strong that day, only to cry in secret knowing that one day my husband’s use of the camera would be over; he would no longer see the beauty in the world that people often overlook. And I, well, I would need to continue with biannual eye exams to track the progress of my vision. I couldn’t even think of that, however, as I knew I one day would be married to a blind photographer.

Prior to our eye exams, my husband had been talking about pinhole photography and mentioned to me how he would love to use a pinhole camera. He even showed me one he would like, not knowing that I would purchase it for him as an early Valentine’s Day gift. I wanted to ensure he had access to such a camera while he could use it — the purchase was important, yet tearful. Needless to say, he loved the gift and proceeded to use the new capturer of beauty immediately. But the truth remained that his eyesight would continue to fail, and it has.

Due to my increasing struggle with allergies and disdain for humidity, he suggested leaving South Carolina and moving back to my home state of Arizona — to Northern Arizona in particular. Neither of us wanted to endure the summers in Phoenix metro, after all. So we made the trek across the US, several days stuck in a little, red Subaru with three dogs in the back seat. It was like traveling with three toddlers that were only welcome at specific Airbnb’s — if you know, you know. But we had a blast because we were able to take some time and I thoroughly enjoyed seeing these places I knew so well through his lone-functioning eye. The photographs we took are memories I will cherish always. He got to meet some of my cousins in Oklahoma, while we stayed a few extra days there for the fourth of July. It gave me a wonderful break from the drive, as there is only ever one driver in our family now. Then we ventured onward with him visualizing the southwest for the first time, shocked by its awesomeness. His excitement was heartwarming. I got to share some of my favorite places with my love.

Today we are living in Payson, Arizona and we get out to see something new in the state every chance we get. I need to share so many places with him before he can no longer see them. It hurts my heart beyond belief that one day he will not be able to see the majesty of this world. However, his positive attitude and desire to live everyday to its fullest, taking photographs wherever he goes, is inspiring. I cannot imagine living with his diagnosis, but, then again, I am in denial of the suffering that may lay in the future in regards to my eyes. Macular degeneration is no joke. But today I see more clearly than ever, knowing that time on this earth is limited; we never know when we will not be able to see the wonder of God’s creation any longer. He and I will make the best of this situation, taking photographs as much as possible, until we are completely unable to engage in his favorite activity. I will do my best to be the supportive wife while he purchases cameras, fixed them, uses them, and sells some of them only to start the process again. And, hopefully, he will inspire others to see through the lens of a film camera, while I hope to inspire people to take those memories, print them and put them into scrapbooks to be enjoyed later.

by Deana Davis, wife of the blind photographer.