Unceasing Echoes

I understand and appreciate how important sight is, that pictures in themselves convey if not a thousand words, certainly 687. I understand too that in these locked-down  times of communicating remotely for the purposes of work and social connection, it is important for many (most?) sighted people to be able to see the person they are speaking to. Video calls are therefore the default rather than voice-only ones.   While I can see that something is happening on the screen, I can’t see what it is, who is speaking, what they look like, what they’re wearing or their surroundings. Similarly, I can’t see enough to properly line up my own phone/iPad camera to frame myself. However, I continue to use video on all these calls and meetings as I know that it is expected and makes for a better sense of connection for most people.   The downside is that I find it exhausting and incredibly exposing. It’s not just that people can see me and I can’t see them, although this is part of it. In normal ci

We’ve had to remain in self-isolation  for the last two weeks and can emerge from it tomorrow.   Other than not being able to leave the house, I’m not isolated in any real sense. I have company, I work full-time, I’m well connected with friends and into social networks, I’ve got plenty of time to make music and I’m having a lot of contact with people which I’m enjoying very much. In practical terms, we’ve had plenty of food as my street has excellent systems for sharing shopping trips, I’m very lucky to have a job that continues through lockdown and to live in an uncramped  house with a garden. Oh yes, and I am not ill.   While I’m adapting to the lockdown and working hard to develop my own routines as a means of taking charge and owning my response to it, I am constantly reminded that a restricted lifestyle doesn’t suit me at all. That sounds obvious, but I know a few people who have a very different relationship to isolation and are enjoying it.   I’ve spent my whole life learning to

As I can’t see enough detail to be able to scan the shelves and isles or read the labels and prices in shops, food shopping on my own generally means using familiar shops where I at least know the layout. I rely on a mixture of picking things up from the shelves and using a small (powerful) magnifier to read the labels, and  asking for help to locate specific  items if I can’t find them. Generally though getting around myself by using my small amount of sight to identify areas and products by their colour and shape, checking them against my memory of what the products should look like close-up has worked well for me all my life.    While this is laborious and not always easy, it does enable me to shop independently, spontaneously and fairly privately… and while I’m good at moaning here about how difficult things are, I enjoy food shopping as it is an integral part of my  love of cooking and eating.   Now though, with COVID-19, I find my whole relationship to shopping has been shaken. I