Sound and Vision

Music has always been a source of solace and inspiration, long before my significant vision loss. My eyesight began declining around age six, profoundly impacting my confidence. Seeking refuge, I turned to activities where I felt in control and could express myself independently; music quickly filled that space.

My journey started with the recorder – accessible, low-cost, and portable. I could practice anywhere, gaining a sense of independence, especially as I initially lacked confidence performing for others. The gratification from mastering songs still resonates today.

While I could still read sheet music, I spent hours committing pieces to memory, an early unrecognized adaptation. Learning “Greensleeves” by heart, despite grade requirements, allowed me to immerse in the tactile and auditory aspects of playing. The recorder, and later the trumpet, became tools for mastery, relying on non-visual feedback and deepening my connection to music.

Exploring electronic music production in my teens led to a vibrant DJ career in my mid-twenties. Alongside extreme myopia and growing light sensitivity, dimly lit DJ booths and random flashes often made DJing challenging.

To overcome this, I developed strategies. I memorized my record collection, knowing each track's structure by heart; I learned to feel the record's surface, like musical braille, to locate breaks without sight; I added color-coded stickers to sleeves to signpost cue points. These multi-sensory techniques reduced visual stress, showing how visual challenges shaped my musical output.

My kinesthetic and auditory senses became finely tuned. I trained to listen to both incoming and current tracks through both sides of my headphones, separating audio channels. This skill, much like playing piano with both hands, refined my auditory perception and let me focus purely on music without external noise. My unconscious reliance on touch and sound, compensating for failing vision, cemented my loyalty to turntables and vinyl.

My deep connection to vinyl kept me using traditional setups for years. Around 2012, I embraced digital DJing, investing in a Pioneer controller synced to Rekordbox DJ software. This setup, with wireless iOS access, offered portability and tactile feel. Though lacking vinyl texture, the time-saving benefits and colored cue pads were immense.

At this point I still had good central vision, although my peripheral sight was deteriorating. Easy phone navigation for track selection was revolutionary, freeing me to focus on creative mixing. While early digital apps lacked accessibility, their convenience eased visual stress and eye strain.

This shift provided a quicker way to manage music and create mixes, fitting into a new life phase balancing family and career. Quick access to a vast digital library was game-changing, and supplementary tactile hardware influenced my future setups.

Beyond performance, music became a profound source of mental regulation during vision loss. It evolved into a crucial coping mechanism. I became fascinated by spatial audio, with early influences from the likes of Future Sound of London, Aphex Twin and Ozric Tentacles; listening with eyes closed, sounds moved around me, creating deep relaxation. My interest expanded to the therapeutic potential of sound, particularly Dr. Alfred Tomatis and Paul Madaule's work in listening therapy. With heightened auditory awareness, I was intrigued by how music alleviates visual stress and cognitive overload – challenges I faced daily. My experience with daily classical music and Gregorian chants, via bone conduction headphones, consistently promotes deep relaxation and reduces stress. Tomatis and Madaule's research into auditory-vestibular integration resonated, highlighting how non-visual systems compensate for reduced vision. Through regular listening, music has become a tool for orienting in space, resetting balance, and buffering sensory overload.

Digital DJing evolved into a vision-friendly setup: a compact controller combined with brightly lit hardware mapped for live remixing with minimal screen reliance, turning controllers into instruments.

However, this setup required significant space and time. Increased work travel pushed me to consolidate, transitioning to standalone DJ players. Brands like Denon DJ offered units with large touch displays, bigger fonts, and dark mode to reduce strain. This simplicity felt like a return to basics, blending ancient wisdom with modern technology. I used this accessible setup until age 51. Significant deterioration of central and peripheral vision made screen use challenging, leading me to step away from DJing and adapt to a new visual reality.

Following registration as SSI/Blind, I revisited music-making. Limiting screen time, I turned to finger drumming. Inspired by DJ/Producer, Carl Rag, and leveraging tactile experience, this hands-on skill built muscle memory and I often practiced with eyes closed.

Looking ahead, I envision portability equaling accessibility in music technology. Powerful smartphones, connected to simple hardware, already enables music creation anywhere. Music software however, needs greater accessibility, including larger fonts and dark mode as standard. While hardware mapping helps, navigating small-screen menus remains a barrier. Apple, with VoiceOver in Logic Pro and GarageBand, shows how accessibility benefits all users. I hope for innovation in hardware with enhanced visual and tactile feedback. AI models hold exciting potential to transform music production for vision-impaired creators, building on AI's growing role in assistive tech.

My musical journey through vision loss underscores a key message: living with impaired sight means cultivating an adaptive mindset, turning challenges into opportunities for discovery. Music exemplifies a powerful, multisensory avenue for creativity, relaxation, and independence. I hope my experience inspires others to embrace this proactive approach.

For individuals with vision loss: Explore and embrace your passions. Seek adaptive tools, experiment with methods, and connect with supportive communities. Advocate for your needs and collaborate with healthcare providers to enhance independence and quality of life.

For ophthalmologists and eye care professionals: Support holistic well-being. Recognize the impact hobbies and creative outlets have on mental health and resilience. Stay informed about accessible technologies and adaptive strategies. Foster open communication, guiding patients to resources that enhance independence and enrich their lives.