Assignment for 1/31-2/3
Post reflections about being blindfolded for one hour at home and consider the following:
How was your sense of space changed?
What strategies did you use to negotiate space?
How did your sense of time change?
How did your interactions with people and objects change?
Did other senses become more acute?
What did you notice that was new about the objects that you live with?
Other thoughts?
Spending only an hour in blindness was challenging, unmotivating and uncomfortable. Space felt much bigger and deeper. My hands were constantly in motion, touching surroundings in order to negotiate space. Time seemed to slow down, listening to every creak in the house, and breeze out my window. I had to ask my housemate to repeat herself a few times, because I truly had to listen with all of my attention due to not being able to watch her hand gestures or the motions of her lips. My hands were all over some objects, like my food for example. Other objects I tried to avoid entirely, like things on the floor with my feet, or with my hands and touching anything in the bathroom. My ears really got turned on. The usual noises in my house that I refer to as silence suddenly seemed so loud and chaotic. Tasting food was much more intense and enjoyable. I suppose my nose woke up a little bit too. The objects in my surrounding are a bit more complex, and possibly even larger than I had originally perceived with my seeing eyes. It felt wonderful to have my sight back.
ReplyDeleteWaking up the morning after I spent an hour blindfolded in my home held a number of surprises. Who put that coffee cup there? Oh! I did! Why didn't my phone charge last night? Well, because the outlet it was plugged in to is associated with a light switch also and since I didn't need lights on last night, it stayed in the off position. Little details I didn't consider, but that happened.
ReplyDeleteDuring my blindfolded experience, I decided to go about my daily activities as normally as I could. I poured myself a cup of coffee and walked it from the kitchen in to the living room and drank it. I brushed my teeth (which I quite enjoyed doing entirely by feel. It feels good to brush your teeth!). I played with the dog and pet the cat (they feel very different from each other even though they are the same size and feel different than I thought, even though I've touched them a million times). I even doodled and wrote in my sketchbook.
Walking around the house was slightly challenging, as I'm not the best housekeeper in the world. Even with some clutter, I essentially knew what was where and with a little feeling around, I was able to get around the house quite well. I noticed right quick that I didn't need the lights on to brush my teeth. Being blind would certainly save on my electricity bill. There was the one moment when I ran in to the dor bell chimes that hang low against a wall in the hall way. My husband and dog didn't like that too much, but at least we all knew exactly where I was in that moment.
At first, I really felt like I needed help, but I quickly felt as if I could do many things, albeit a lot slower than I usually do them. The first time I asked my husband what time it was, 30 minutes had already elapsed and I was surprised. It felt like a shorter time had passed. The second half hour felt a little longer as I settled in to my darkened state a little more. I wondered what to do - I wasn't going to be looking at a computer or an iPad or a smart phone. I couldn't even "stare in to space" as I am apt to do between my other tasks. So I crawled in to bed with my sketchbook and the remnants of my cup of coffee and wrote and drew. Inspired by the John Bramblitt documentary video http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=f-8bmGSYQZo we watched in class, I decided I'd try to draw by touch. I had some amount of success drawing boxed evenly spaced apart. I also drew a grid of sorts with my coffee and once it dried, went back in and was semi-successful in circling in pencil the parts of the paper where I had already drawn with the wet media. The paper felt different, so it was pretty easy to tell, although not with exacting detail.
I found myself asking my husband simple questions, like, "is the cat in here?", "what time it is?", and do you know where my sketchbook is?". It became immediately evident to me the different level of independence that sight provides me and I am grateful for it, although I have to admit, that it was a bit of a relief not to have to look at anything during that time and just to feel and perceive my surroundings. My dog thought I was playing with him when I was walking around the house with outstretched arms, so he was jumping around a lot which annoyed my husband who threatened to leave the room which upset me a little bit. I knew I wanted his help for certain things like knowing the time, so I thought if I was less active, it would be better. I did get angry with him near the end of the hour a little bit as he wouldn't tell me what time it was. I wonder if disabled people have thoughts like that - like they are inconveniencing someone else, so they had better be on their "best behavior" all the time. I didn't like having that thought at all and hope that when I am in a situation with disabled students, I can help them understand that they don't have to feel that way with me.
One's sense of space is severely changed. It is at once like losing an anchor and being left to float aimlessly, but also like having a wall in front of you no matter where you turn. The only strategy is really to use your hands as feelers. I began to appreciate things like the molding around a doorway in order to latch on to.
ReplyDeleteTime seemed to drag on actually. That's probably because I had nothing to measure time with and really had no clue as to what the time was. I did however leave the radio on and eventually became anxious to hear them mention the time.
My interactions with objects while it felt incredibly limited was also more considered and focused. When I thought about sometime....I had to consider where it was and if it were in the open or covered/blocked by other objects. I found myself wishing I had more concrete, easily accessible places for things (and that I had dusted more regularly).
One thing I set off to find was my dog. I had the urge to feel something fuzzy and soft. This was a challenge in and of itself, because my dog is completely deaf so I can't just call him. I did actually end up stepping on the cat, but I often step on her anyway.
Subtle sounds came to my attention. Things like the hum of the refrigerator, and creaks in the floor I hadn't noticed before. Overall, the only new properties about the things around me was the dust in crevices while I was searching for something to keep me busy. I did try drawing to keep myself busy, but found little resolve. I managed to dig up a needed rubber eraser to 'sculpt' with. It was please to have something I could manipulate and 'get myself around'. The experience was somewhat frustrating, but when you have a small material to work with, you can actually use your mouth as an extra 'hand' in order to get a fuller picture of what you're doing.
Another thing that occurred to me was that labels on things like pharmaceuticals are completely useless. If I had a headache and wanted an aspirin, I might end up taking one of the dog's arthritis pills or something. That was rather disconcerting.
Spending an hour blindfolded was really uncomfortable. I immediately felt the space surrounding me become very limited and that made me uneasy. I was lucky in a sense that I know my apartment well enough to feel around for things, but getting around was a challenge. I had to put a lot of focus on how things around me physically felt and the memory of where they were in the room. My cat, who is usually underfoot when I can see her, must've sensed something was different about the way I was moving and she pretty much avoided me, so no tripping over the cat. I noticed that I didn't really have a sense of time at all, you kind of take for granted just glancing at a clock. It was kind of frustrating not having a sense of time or not being able to move without really thinking about where i was going or how I had to be careful just to reach that point. I guess it is true how much we really rely on sight, maybe we do rely on it too much.
ReplyDeleteI looked at the clock when I started and it was 6:15 PM. I first tried navigating my way through the house by feeling the walls. I would put my hands far out in front of me and found it much easier to walk when I was touching something. The hallway was the most secure, but walking through a large living room was harder because I had nothing to hold onto. Even though I had walked my halls at night in the dark without fear, I was still very unsure of every footstep I took.
ReplyDeleteMy dog, Gunner, instantly new something was up and he was GREAT with me. He followed me around everywhere and stayed at my feet the whole time. Every time I walked into the kitchen I would ask "Whose there?" because I could never tell if my brother or one of his friends were behind me as a "joke," which might me a joke to them but I hated it! I realized how vulnerable you can feel when you're blind- like everyone is looking at you or about to sneak up on you. But as long as Gunner was relaxed at my feet I knew nobody else was around and if he got up quickly, I knew someone was walking or he heard them talking.
I had to finish doing laundry so I transferred my clothes from the washer to the dryer and decided to doodle while my clothes dried. I used oil pastels first (finding the oil pastels that I had shoved away under my bed was probably the hardest part). But I wanted them specifically because I knew I would be able to feel the marks I made... and it was very relaxing, and rewarding to see what I had made once I took my blindfold off later. I did that for about 10 minutes before I got bored and asked my brother the time for about the fourth time since 6:15. I didn't know what to do with myself. Nobody wanted to just sit and talk, and I couldn't do any of the things they did, because they were playing pool. I felt very isolated throughout the experience, and it was only an hour.
In an attempt to make myself useful for the remaining time, I decided to fold my laundry and I found it more relaxing to be in the laundry room in silence and alone while I was "blind," than to be with other people. I could see how it could easily make someone become withdrawn and sheltered. I know I would never want to leave the house like that... I would just feel much too vulnerable and afraid. I was scared to even go outside to let my dog out. I was surprised to be able to tell what every piece of clothing was. I could feel the textures of the fabric and I knew which shirts I wanted folded, which ones were to go on a hanger, which ones had to be buttoned. I understood what John Bramblitt meant when he said even though his eyes didn't work he could still see. I could see every piece of clothing exactly in my mind- its just my eyes weren't transmitting the image to my brain, I was just using my hands and my memory to see the images inside my mind.
Finally the hour was up and I was so relieved to take the blindfold off. It felt like the whole day flew by and then that one hour lasted forever. I really liked being able to see my doodles afterwards because some of them were actually really similar to the images I had in my head. I had also written a To Do list and I was shocked it was even legible because when I was writing it I felt like the lines were all jumbled. The biggest realization for me was that there is no sense of time, and without a way to feel a clock, or hear the time, I couldn't simply glance at a clock. I wondered how blind people find entertainment outside of Tv and computers and how they pass the time, which is really an insignificant problem compared to all the other challenges they have to face throughout their lives.
I spent my blindfolded hour cleaning up and organizing my room. I thought that picking up and putting away objects that were familiar to me would show me how much I rely on my sight.
ReplyDeleteI started picking up my clothing and feeling the qualities of fabric to try to identify what shirt I was actually holding. It was definitely more difficult than I imagined it would be.
It became obvious to me that everyday tasks seemed to take a lot longer; Instead of looking at my shirt and putting it away in its respective place, I had to identify each shirt by its sleeves, its material, and whether or not it had a collar, and then had to slowly feel for my dresser. I became frustrated very easily, and time seemed to move painfully slow.
At certain times I became disoriented in my own room, and have no idea what wall I was facing until I reached out my hands for something familiar.
This seemingly simple task took me twice as long to complete, but I got to appreciate the textural qualities of the objects in my room. After I was finished, I spent the rest of my time talking with my housemates since using a computer was out of the question. I think this experience was a great way to put myself in a blind person's shoes, even though it was just for a little while.
First of all, spending an hour blind folded is one of the more interesting things I have done in a while. Doing so put my brain in a state of adaptation shock that I had never fully experienced before (or at least not for a full hour).
ReplyDeleteSpace - My sense of space was almost completely different: longer distances seemed shorter, shorter distances seemed longer. Despite this I felt pretty comfortable within the walls of my residence. I simply ran my fingers along one wall, groped for objects in front of me with the other, and walked cautiously through my habitat. As I did this I thought about how much easier this was for me with all the visual cues I obtained just minutes before. I wanted to try this in an environment far less familiar. So I groped my way to my front door. Navigating my front yard was more challenging for two reasons - there were large open spaces and I did not have a refined set of habits to navigate the area with. Boy was I lost! I set the task of reaching my car in the driveway (a good 50+ feet away). I found myself extremely dependent on the information of the ground (specifically the texture), it was the best information regarding my local position. The auditory information from traffic passing on the street was the only information I had in regards to the orientation of my body within the greater space of the yard. In fact, after "making it" to my car (I didn't really make it, I wound up in the middle of the street and having to peek out of my blind fold to make it back to safety) I had to journey back to my porch. This was extremely difficult because no traffic passed for quite sometime and I made the mistake of wandering into a grassy area. I was completely disoriented in a small open space. This was a small controlled environment which made the situation comical, but I could tell had the situation been real there could have been an overwhelming sense of panic.
Time - My sense of time, I suspect was most likely altered due to the shock of my brains efforts to try to interact with the world in a new way. One hour went by incredibly quickly. I had set my smart phone's alarm to ring three times: once at half an hour, one at 45 minutes, and one more at the full hour. I did this to see if I could gain a sense of time. The answer is, no. Near the end of both 15 minute intervals I had no idea if 7 minutes or 14 minutes had gone by.
Interactions/objects lived with - I didn't interact with people during this period, but I did give myself a set of tasks during the hour. One task involved taking a glass from my bedroom, bringing it downstairs to the kitchen, and getting a drink of water. When I reached the sink my brain called forward the information to interact with a sink. The problem was it referenced the wrong sink. My hand reached for the tap water controls of my bathroom's sink, which were non-existent on my kitchen sink. I thought about what it might be like for a blind person to encounter different types of sinks. Next task was washing the glass. There was some disorienting experiences between setting the glass down, finding the sponge, finding the dish soap, dispensing the dish soap, and re-finding the glass. During the steps, I encountered another glass and almost knocked it over. When it was time to find my glass to wash, I almost knocked it over (I wondered if blind people despised glass objects).
ReplyDeleteOther senses - I would definitely say my sense of hearing became more acute. During my blind hour I encountered my room mate's dog. The dog had been resting in his usual place upstairs and as I was venturing downstairs. He jumped up to follow me as he often does in hopes that we might play catch or tug of war. When his paws hit the wood floor behind me, I heard the usual scratching noise on our wood floors. However, instead of disregarding this common occurrence I found myself startled by the noise. It seemed incredibly close, and loud enough to evoke some sort of response from me.
Other thoughts - I could definitely feel the mental stress of my brain trying to adapt to depending on sound and feel as the primary methods of receiving environmental information. This experience gave me at least a small sense of empathy for a blinded individual.
The first thought I had after putting on my blindfold was that if I hadn't just cleaned my room, I would have been done for. I would have landed on my face more times than I would have liked to count, since my hands and feet were the only tools at my disposal to find my way. Hands and feet, as it turns out, aren't very useful in the field of navigation. I kept bumping into my walls and door, and, at one shocking moment, my scalding hot space heater. My previous knowledge of where things were in my room didn't help much either, because each movement I made seemed ten times slower than normal. Everything seemed further away and every space seemed much larger. After my encounter with the space heater, I wasn't too adventurous. I didn't try anything that I wasn't supremely comfortable with. However, my sense of hearing did seem to become more acute as the hour went on. I could hear my landlord rustling about outside and my roommates' footsteps as they walked up our driveway, and their keys jingling in the lock. The main impression I was left with is that there is nothing I am comfortable doing in my house without my sense of sight. I couldn't use my laptop, read, draw, watch movies, or anything else that normally occupied my time.
ReplyDeleteBeing blindfolded definitely altered my sense of space. I thought I would be comfortable in a space that I'm familiar with but this was not the case. My house seemed like a different place. Everything seemed so far away and out of place. My sense of direction was completely off. When trying to find things my aim would be too high or too low. To negotiate the space around me I used my arms and legs for guidance. I would feel where things were in relation to other another in order to find what I was looking for. While walking around my house I would carefully move my feet to make sure I wasn't tripping over anything. The most difficult part of moving around my home was confronting the stairs. Going up the stairs wasn't so bad but traveling down was very challenging. My sense of balance was lacking and I felt that I was going to stumble. Needless to say I was relieved when I finally reached the bottom.
ReplyDeleteLike my sense of space I felt most of my senses were changed. Time went very slowly. After what felt like the first 15 minutes of being blindfolded I asked one of my housemates how much time had passed. He replied with a shocking 6 minutes! The entire experience felt much longer than it actually was. Apart from my sense of time being muffled my sense of touch was very sensitive. Every time I touched a surface it felt intensified. When I would accidentally bump into something with my hand or foot it felt much more abrupt and discomforting then it normally would when I have my vision.
Luckily my housemates were very accommodating with my temporary blindness. At fist they laughed and didn't understand the nature of this assignment but after the first 10 minutes or so they were of great assistance. They helped me with things I wasn't comfortable doing (ex. Pouring creamer in my coffee).
Overall this experience helped my realize how lucky I am to have my sight. A world without vision was very challenging. Little everyday tasks were no longer simple. Even though I was surrounded by my housemates in my own home, I felt alone. I'm sure that with more time I would have somewhat adjusted to being blindfolded but for the one hour it was very difficult.
Once my handicap was on,I felt disoriented and reluctant to move. Space seemed to by exaggerated. I had the sensation of things being both compacted and expanded beyond their usual dimensions. It felt more blank, space forming as I moved through and unfolded it. The action brought space into meaning, rather than visually taking in space and then acting in it. The first thing that came to mind as a way to navigate was to extend my own space, my body, to make more space come in to tactile focus. I slowly, cautiously stretched tentative limbs to find the floor, the air, and all the objects in between. It reminded me of floating without having a body, as if I were a mass of vague appendages always searching for the edges that in turn always expanded. I thought of how some people who are blind use a cane to help navigate their worlds, but I didn't know where to find anything remotely analogous. I stuck with reaching. Stairs were tricky.
ReplyDeleteTime felt strange. Without visual reference I found I had trouble keeping track of how many minutes had passed between activities, I constantly wondered when an hour would be up, and if it already had passed. Like space, time seemed exaggerated, seeming to pass very slowly, perhaps because I noticed every part of my actions more acutely. It felt like everything was taking me quite a bit of time to complete- drawing, finding needed materials, walking, climbing stairs, finding the crackers, changing the channel, even sitting.
I didn't encounter any people during my time blindfolded, but objects seemed ambiguous. Even if I was certain of what an object was it still left some missing spot in my perception of that object. I tried consciously to bring things like pencils into clear mental view as I was holding them. The objects that were even familiar to me seemed slightly foreign, but certain things gave me a sense of comfort. A necklace, for example, that my grandmother had given to me from her grandmother felt strangely pleasant and enjoyable to hold. This is an object that I had frequently held in my hand, absently toying with its loose frame, running my fingers over the carved glass, rotating the beads. Because I was already so tactily familiar with the necklace, it felt that much more familiar to me without sight.
Mostly though, everything felt blurry.
When I blindfolded myself, I pulled a bandana and my sleeping mask over my eyes in order to block out as much light as I could. Even though I tried to cover up my eyes to keep the light out, it still came through. When I covered my eyes it seemed like my whole world just seemed huge even though I knew that it wasn’t. I realized that my hearing really played a big role in trying to figure out where I was. I also noticed that my sense of touch helped me trying to navigate throughout my room and dorm suite.
ReplyDeleteI had told my friends that I had to be blindfolded for the class and they understood. They tried to help me figure out where to go, except for one of my friends who thought it would be funny to throw pillows and the beanbag chair at me. I could hear everyone’s footsteps and it was weird to hear people moving around me when I was trying to figure out where I was. I was a little disoriented.
I tried to use my sense of touch to help me and I had held my arms out to try to find my way out of my room and into the common room. On occasion I would bump my knee to the couch in order to find the seat so I could sit down. Someone had eaten an orange and I could smell it from across the room. I walked towards it and someone gave me a piece to eat. I knew that it was a piece of an orange but it felt weird.
Finally, when I went to take my blindfolds off, I didn’t think about it, but I ripped them off and it was like someone took a picture with the flash on in my face. I immediately covered my eyes up. I got a little bit of a headache and it took me a while for my eyes to get adjusted to the amount of light in the room.
Being blindfolded for one hour was a source of relaxation and also anxiety for me. At first I was very calm and was enjoying how peaceful it was to just sit with my own thoughts. I also thought ahead and put on a playlist of music I enjoy. The anxiety started about fifteen minutes in when my phone vibrated with a text message. I feel so pathetic saying it, but I really really wanted/needed to check my phone. I spent the next fifteen minutes thinking about text messaging and how efficient it is but also how much easier a phone call could be sometimes. Text messaging pulls us apart and limits human interaction which is really pretty sad.
ReplyDeleteAfter getting over not being able to answer my texts I really felt at a loss on what to do. I was sitting in my bed just thinking...thinking...thinking. I would imagine someone who is truly blind really knows a lot about themselves from all that time that those who can see waste on facebook, watching television, and playing video games.
At one point I needed to use the restroom and I live in a residence hall so it was a challenge getting down the hall and back again, and I'm sure I looked pretty foolish. It was strange to notice things about the bathroom I'd never noticed before. I went barefoot and the floor felt freezing, it smelled like cleaning solution. I felt very uncomfortable being in a stall next to someone who's every movement I could hear.
Overall The blindfolded experiment was a really great experience. I've been trying to take some time to myself each day to just sit and think like I did during the hour I was blindfolded. It's so easy to get caught up in a world of all things visual that we forget to take time to just be.
-Megan Brannan
Sorry that this post is so late! I just figured out how to blog hooray!