For as long as I can remember I have loved to work with my hands. The work I did was far from anything spectacular; for the most part, it was mediocre at best, but that didn’t slow me down. I still worked to build, maintain, and repair anything that I was able.
Things like woodworking, precision building, or anything artistic in nature was not my forte. I could put things together, but if any meticulousness, delicacy or gracefulness was needed I never have been and I’m still not your go-to guy.
Knowing more about my disorder and realizing just how far back it started I realize now why that is. The connection between my brain and my muscles doesn’t always fire properly and so my muscles, hands and sometimes limbs shake, and I sometimes have a hard time moving in precise or linear directions.
This also didn’t slow me down. I tried to build great projects that take a lot of skill but they always turned out — well, let’s say just enough to pass for whatever I was attempting to build.
Even tying flies, something I really enjoyed doing was a difficult task. The larger less complicated bugs I could recreate and they did a good job at catching fish.
The smaller more delicate flies were always something I could never perfect and I would end up with way more wasted material than finished flies.
Back in the day right after the extinction of the dinosaurs, motorized vehicles were introduced and I spent hours upon hours, days upon days, working on cars in an attempt to build the fastest car around. (Never came close but it was fun.)
This was something I could do because the tools were bulky and the work was fairly straight-forward. Yeah, I broke tools, and parts, some knuckles, a finger or two and ruined tons of clothes.
Sometimes I even misplaced parts or added them in the wrong place but eventually, it would get done. It might not run but it was together.
After losing my sight, I started looking (ha-ha, looking?) for things to occupy my time. For a while, I had a hard time thinking I could still do things with my hands when it seemed like everything I used to do involved sight and the ability to have a steady hand.
I wasn’t going to be defeated, so I started looking for things that would satisfy my need to work with my hands. I have found several things that my lack of motor skills and sight haven’t seemed to hinder my ability to accomplish.
One of the first things I learned is that even if my motor skills aren’t at the top of their game, given enough time, I can feel my way through just about anything.
Case in point — cutting the grass. It took me weeks to figure out the best way to accomplish this task without losing a limb, any of the dogs' limbs, or any other necessary accouterments but here I am, cutting my grass like a pro. (If I’m not, don’t tell me, I like the illusion.)
As long as I have time and enough dexterity to feel what I’m doing, I can accomplish tasks and revive that feeling of contentment. It all started with 550-paracord.
For anyone not familiar with paracord it is a nylon colored, sometimes multi-colored cord that is braided and knotted into bracelets, lanyards, leashes, and a plethora of other things. I started paracord bracelets when I was still sighted; making a few for friends and me, but that was about the extent.
After losing my sight, my drive to learn how to tie more complex patterns as well as broaden my scope of different products became a driving force in my sanity.
I learned that if I feel my way through the corded knots, I can achieve just about any pattern and length. The bracelets became more complex and I taught myself how to make leashes, lanyards, key fobs and any other construct that can be imagined with paracord.
There are also different sizes of paracord from 1/4 inch down to micro, which is about the size of a heavy sewing thread. I have learned to weave and sew different sizes together and have created some of my own patterns and designs.
I have even incorporated it into my world of sight by applying different patterns and designs on my walking canes.
When I was sighted I couldn't paint my deck and make it look respectable but now I have started painting glass cabochons. That’s a fancy way of saying glass eyeball jewelry.
I don’t mean like real human glass eyeballs, like, “Hey see this here glass eye that I got after that freak fishing accident? It was made by a blind guy.” Not! Also, it's not a piece of glass jewelry that you would attach to your eye.
I know that having a bedazzled grill is all the rage right now but I would hate to start some new fad that causes great discomfort to the wearer by them trying to apply some sequins to their eyeball
It consists of applying different colors of fingernail polish to the back of a round polished glass bead. While the paint is wet you scratch it with several different sized sharp objects (everyone duck) then applying different colors over the scratches until it looks like an eyeball.
These creations are then attached to jewelry like necklaces and earrings. Granted, these are very unique pieces of jewelry and not everyone appreciates it, (only the nerdy, like me.)
The craziest thing is the lack of dexterity that I mentioned, (not being able to move in direct or precise ways), makes the eyes turn out more 3 dimensional and realistic.
The shakiness and lack of vision create a non-conformity in the lines which makes for a more realistic looking eye, go figure? It takes a blind guy to make realistic Fantasy / Dragon eyes, irony anyone?
This, like the paracord, is totally by feel and by the end my fingers are covered in more paint than the cabochon but somehow they turn out.
One of the most difficult and time-consuming crafts that I have learned is glass and metal etching. Metal etching is done by a chemical-electrical process and the glass is done with acid.
Both of these are tricky when you have enough sight to see what is going on and there is always a danger of, well — burns, fire, explosions.
This took me a while to even try because of the whole burning to death thing but I conquered that fear as well. The other reason that this is one of the most time-consuming and difficult is the fact that a stencil must be cut and applied to the object being etched and that sometimes is very delicate work.
Not everything I attempt turns out but I am getting better and hell, not too many people can say they have a designed glass, etched plaque or personalized beer mug, made by a blind guy.
Moral of the story, you never know what you are capable of until you try. I have learned how to do things that keep me occupied and my mind sane, ha-ha-ha-ha-ha — aaannnnnd sorry that was funny.
I am nowhere near done with my exploration. Next, a lathe; we
all know how well I handle sharp instruments.
—SP