The first time I dared to take a picture after experiencing changes in my vision was an act of sacred rebellion and the beginning of a journey whose end is not yet in sight.
My story as an artist and presenter parallels an exploration of inner and outer vision.It prompts reflection on what I perceive as valuable, meaningful, and possible. Through photography, poetry, and other written expressions, I narrate parts of my story only later to edit them with an innate knowing that future revisions are inevitable. By the time you read this, it will already be outdated to some extent.
I appreciate the creative process as much as the products that sometimes emerge. I laugh at the parts of me that still flirt with illusions of independence and perfection. I embrace the path of interdependence with an understanding that it will be one of those roads without a final destination. I have been given wondrous moments where acceptance of my unique way of seeing the world is woven with a deep understanding. How I see—perhaps how each of us sees—is influenced by the perspectives of others and the multiple ways in which information is exchanged.
The art of living creates an insatiable curiosity in me. Not only do I ask “Who am I?”, I am also very interested in discovering who you are and who we can be together. Throughout my career, I have presented in both conversational and workshop formats about vision, disability, and inclusion to audiences of diverse ages and abilities.
I have learned, only to then unlearn and relearn again. I have held on, only to then let go and open to the creative potential of this very moment. And I have grown to believe that how I see, indeed who I am, is BEAUTIFUL. That is who I am today.