Archive for the ‘Vision’ Category
Tuesday, January 1st, 2013
For those who go out of their way to sow seeds of disdain for the customary list of New Year’s resolutions: it’s not about now long it stays viable, or about the resulting success rate, or whether it retains meaning in a culture where overt self-improvement carries a tinge of “fuddy-duddy-ness.” For me it’s about one’s mindset at the cyclical cusp. Is it merely “the thought that counts”? No, it’s more than that. The thought becomes a renewal of self-belief, expressed in line-items of striving. It requires introspection, evaluation, and discernment—hardly fashionable, to be sure. All I know is that they have worked for me at some level, so I’m not sheepish about continuing the practice. I don’t feel the need to broadcast my aims for the year, and listing some of them here hardly constitutes that, since I seriously doubt if a half dozen people still pay any attention to this worn-out log.
• Complete the Barrett portrait.
• Do some form of vision therapy each day.
• Resurrect a more impressive fitness regimen.
• Restore my practice of stretching and meditation.
• Elevate my profile as a collage artist.
• Launch the handmade card biz with Cliff.
• Complete home improvements for an open house.
• Create our first knob-land walking trails at Blue Bank.
• Outperform the market with rules-based trading.
• Produce the first digital version of a Clan Map.
• Boost participation in caring for my mother.
Posted in Art, Business, Exercise, Home, Investing, Mombo, Nature, Priorities, Studio, Vision | No Comments »
Monday, December 27th, 2010
I need to do another entry about VT, now that my direct work with a therapist is over. I should have kept up a more regular account, since now it will be more difficult to reconstruct a coherent record of the experience. I was thinking about how, after a rough session, I had what seemed to be a moment of broad clarity. For me, these occurrences consist of distinct interconnections and apparent cause/effect relationships with respect to aspects of life not previously associated in my thinking. Sometimes these connections fade to the point where the entire insight can be called into question, and I’m left with a vague sense that my inner mental acuity is as unreliable as my memory. This time it was an electric thought that perhaps my vision dysfunction was directly related to a latent but powerful level of stress that has derived from my creativity having been held up to the continual scrutiny and subjective evaluation of others. “Well, of course,” one might say. How can one become a mature creative person, much less a professional resource, if one doesn’t learn to cope with either the legitimate opinions or capricious expectations of others? And so it becomes a matter of attitude or inner posture. If the inherent tension is not successfully mitigated at an unconscious level, it’s quite possible that there will be corrosive influences and negative consequences in the organism. I was left with a brief, troubling notion that “most of my creative life has been wasted,” because I hadn’t nourished a stance optimally detached from any sanction or disapproval from others. Has the failure to properly offset personal fulfillment with the satisfaction of others created a fundamental contradiction at the heart of what I do that induces and maintains deep internal stress? Am I the kind of individual with such a basic urge to follow my artistic impulse that a life of constraint based on the anticipation of external judgment has resulted in some form of rebellion by my body, mind, or spirit? And, if so, what in heaven’s name can be done about it now?
Posted in Angst, Art, Creativity, Psychology, Vision | Comments Closed
Monday, March 29th, 2010
March Exercise V —day twenty-nine— I had my eleventh session at the eye center with a substitute therapist, and she gave me a “Brock String,” a simple but powerful tool for binocular training that improves accommodative (focusing) and vergence (aiming) skills. Dana was gone most of the day on an EKU campus visit with Marty. When they returned, he was excited to report that he liked the school and would do everything he could to get enrolled for the fall term. Dana, who hadn’t been feeling particularly well over the weekend, took a turn for the worse after too much outdoor exposure while touring the facilities.
Today’s sight bite— Bold shapes of red, white, and black —c-l-i-c-k— as symbolic abstractions challenge my perceptions.
Previously on M-Ex— At the home stretch, I get good news. (3/29/07)
Tomorrow— The roofing crew is due at the Town House . . .
Posted in Dana, Education, Family, Marty, Studio, Vision | Comments Closed
Thursday, March 25th, 2010
March Exercise V —day twenty-five— I continued to have difficulty with my “phantom thumb” exercise, so I called Mary Ellen to consult. She told me to just set it aside for now and not to fret about it. I suddenly realized how many other things I’d allowed myself to make an object of daily worry, pondering the connection between stress and vision problems. It seemed a good time to walk over to the Community Art Center with Dana and tour the dinosaur exhibit. We saw Nathan M and he offered to provide us the list of economic development conferees. Later, I sipped a cold Leinenkugel and watched the Wildcats secure their spot in the “elite 8.”
Today’s sight bite— Phosphorescent streaks and random geometric perfections —c-l-i-c-k— convincing me that exotic minerals are more fascinating to my current imagination than extinct reptiles.
Previously on M-Ex— It’s a madhouse! (3/25/07)
Tomorrow— Flying solo in the studio . . .
Posted in Angst, Business, Dana, Nature, Sport, Television, Vision | Comments Closed
Wednesday, March 3rd, 2010
March Exercise V —day three— This time around, the discipline is less about the rigor of the clock and more about concentration and dispatch. My “vision homework” has become a key daily ritual, but hasn’t locked onto a consistent time yet. I have an alarm hopelessly stuck in my cell phone that nobody can figure out how to cancel, so I think that 11:30 am will likely become the scheduled time. Departure for a lap swim was upon me before I realized the morning was spent, and on my walk to Centre I saw an omen of oncoming spring, high up in my favorite tree at McDowell Park. In the afternoon I learned about a new advertising assignment in the “Jacob Series” for our bank client. Later, at the gathering of cycling advocates, I failed again to conceal my frustration concerning local officials. I’ve lost the fire for all the bureaucratic orchestration that I once found so intriguing.
Today’s sight bite— A treetop speckled with crows against a cotton-ball sky —c-l-i-c-k— and their robust “haw-haw” as the creatures salute me with a propitious fly-by.
Previously on M-Ex— Coffee-shop consultation with a friend no longer so close at hand. (3/3/07)
Tomorrow— Library time in my chambre serein…
Posted in Business, Exercise, Nature, Political Affairs, Public Service, Studio, Time, Vision | Comments Closed
Saturday, February 27th, 2010
If my misaligned eyes had been straight and looked at the same object, then neurons carrying information from each eye would have delivered the same input to binocular neurons in my visual cortex. Since my eyes were not straight and saw different things, the binocular neurons in my brain received conflicting input. This situation set up a competition between my two eyes, and for each neuron, one or the other eye won out. Each neuron in my brain now responded to input from only one eye. My brain was wired in a way that prevented sterovision. While reading in college about “critical periods” in vision development, I had to conclude that it was too late for my vision to change. Yet, much more recent scientific research indicates that the adult brain may be more “plastic,” or capable of rewiring, than previously realized.
— Susan R. Barry, Fixing my Gaze
I went to the eye center early, before my fifth therapy session, to have a prism film applied to the right lens of my glasses. The prism corrects the misalignment to a limited degree, so I still must make an effort to fuse the double vision on my own. It’s a crutch of sorts, bringing images into a zone that deters my ingrained tendency to suppress the vision in one eye. Because of this, things usually look chaotic when I put on these glasses because they force my perceptions to deal with the lack of fusion. During therapy we had a bit of a breakthrough when Mary Ellen at last identified the precise configuration of prisms that seemed to provide for me vision that was fully singular. Pow. Suddenly I had a non-jumbled picture before me, without regard to head position or directional glance. But as appealing as that sounds, wearing this configuration of corrective lenses would do nothing to reverse the underlying brain-eye disorder. So the emphasis remains on integrated therapy, including a new pattern of exercises I do with a metronome. When I tried my first metronome task, I thought, “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to do this.” I kept at it, and when I noticed the first shade of progress, I experienced a startling shift in mindset— “I’m wrong. This is possible. For too long I’ve told myself that I can’t do things.” This awareness has now become the standard when a new exercise seems difficult. I don’t trust that initial feeling of insurmountability. Instead, I begin to anticipate some indication of partial success, and then I accept that daily practice will turn the tide. In other cases, the exercises have seemed too easy. I’ve learned to tell myself that there must be various kinds of neuron activity necessary to the overall brain rewiring. Easy or hard probably has nothing to do with it. At the sixth session, the “breakthrough” prism-set didn’t work at first, but then everything sort of snapped into place after a delay. I had noticed this phenomenon before when using the “crutch glasses.” Clearly there is more to this than getting a new pair of spectacles. It’s more like acquiring a new wiring diagram for my gray matter, synapse by synapse.
Posted in Nonfiction, Vision, Words | No Comments »
Saturday, February 6th, 2010
When I undertook optometric vision therapy at age forty-eight, I could see the misalign-and-suppress mechanism at work in my own visual system. With therapy procedures, I learned to bring the images from both eyes into consciousness and could therefore discover where my two eyes were aiming. Throughout life, an unconscious action had moved the image from one eye out of alignment, making it easier for me to discount the image from the nonfixating eye.
— Susan R. Barry, Fixing my Gaze
Yesterday I had my third session with Mary Ellen, the therapist selected to work with me on a program of weekly eye exercises. The disciplines are both challenging and tiring. Let me explain that. They are difficult because they necessitate a kind of exertion unlike physical or mental effort. Nevertheless, it does involve muscle and brain activity, which is tiring, but the kind of fatigue that results is unlike anything I’ve known—a dull pressure in the middle of my head. I don’t feel exhausted, but noticeably depleted in a way I can’t put my finger on. So far, any progress I’ve noticed has made me even more aware of the dysfunction. In other words, the double vision is more obvious at times because I’m training myself not to suppress the vision in one eye to accommodate the misalignment. Does that make sense? It’s frustrating and stressful to have my vision more chaotic, but I understand the need to strengthen my singular vision in each eye before I develop an improvement in its ability to “team.” This will require more fusion exercises that rely on 3D glasses. I also have to do daily patching for individual-eye isolation work. It’s probably best that I avoid “overthinking” all of it and concentrate on applying myself to the assignments. I don’t know what I’d feel if I didn’t have confidence in the benefits of the process.
Posted in Nonfiction, Psychology, Vision, Words | No Comments »
Thursday, January 21st, 2010
Our conventional and limited view of adult neuronal plasticity derives in part from the specific ways that scientists and physicians have designed laboratory experiments and clinical therapies. We cannot understand neuronal plasticity by studying brain circuits in isolation from the whole person. Only by considering a person’s adaptations and response to her condition can we really explore the amazing plasticity of the human brain to rewire itself throughout life in order to recover from injury, learn new skills, improve perception, and even gain new qualia.
— Susan R. Barry, Fixing my Gaze
Susan Barry’s book is certainly not for everyone, but like many works that explain a long misunderstood aspect of human health, reading it has been invaluable to someone who must personally face the unknown, accept a daunting challenge, and believe that one’s own body has the capacity to respond positively to a holistic, self-corrective discipline. I’m thankful that the book was recommended and glad that I read it before undergoing my first therapy session tomorrow morning at the Vision and Learning Center. I feel fully committed and as prepared as possible for 30 weeks of treatment. I’ve placed my confidence in people who might be dismissed as charlatans by some medical specialists, but that’s nothing new for me. I even heard a top expert on the Charlie Rose Brain Series recently insist that there is a “critical period” during childhood that governs the development of visual perception, which makes it impossible to correct some eye disorders later in life, a misinterpretation of research that Barry says has been long discredited by scientists and vision therapists. Well, I’m about to conduct my own experiment, under the guidance of individuals I consider to be knowledgeable, trustworthy professionals, and I’m eager to get started. Enough preliminaries! I’m fortunate to have the Center within a reasonable driving distance. Sure, I wish it wasn’t so dang expensive, but isn’t that why The Guy in the Sky grew plenty of oak trees on my knobs? Onward…
Posted in Education, Gratitude, Nonfiction, Personalities, Television, Vision, Words | No Comments »
Wednesday, January 13th, 2010
A strabismic’s eyes are not aimed at the same point in space. The difference between the left- and right-eye views is too great for the brain to combine the images into a single picture. A person with non-aligned eyes is confronted with a serious perceptual problem; she must somehow create a single, coherent worldview from conflicting input from the two eyes. To solve this problem, many strabismics suppress the information from one eye and look through the other. Some always use the same eye, while others continually switch between the two eyes, but in either case, they may never see normally through the two eyes together. As a result, most strabismics have reduced or absent stereovision.
— Susan R. Barry, Fixing my Gaze
Spending time with the View-Master as a child was a deeply moving experience. But, after all, it was just a toy, and I was embarrassed enough about my strong emotional responses that I kept them to myself. I recall being so affected by the Flash Gordon reel that knowing there was a finite limit of images nearly brought me to tears. What was it about seeing those 3D impressions that was so profound? Was it because my natural depth perception was already deficient or in decline? I knew I wasn’t very good at hitting or catching a ball. Did I simply lack an athletic reflex, or could it have had more to do with an inability to place objects in space, a known characteristic of monocular vision? How flat has my world been all along?
Yesterday I went to the Vision and Learning Center for a battery of diagnostics that measured and benchmarked the current state of the eye disorder. I’m starting to get more comfortable with phrases like a) Vertical Strabismus (eyeballs out of alignment), b) Oculomotor Pursuits (something to do with how cognitive function enables the eye to move smoothly), and c) Binocular Fusional Disfunction (inability of brain neurons to coordinate dual-eye vision). Actually, it’s wrong to think of it as an eye problem. A “brain glitch” is probably a more accurate way to understand it. Some of the tests seemed ridiculously easy, while others were very difficult and exhausting for me to perform. At the end of my session came a discussion about the details of therapy, timetable, and costs. Once-a-week sessions at the Center for 30 consecutive weeks, plus daily home practice, 30 minutes minimum. For some reason, I wasn’t expecting such a long program, and the sticker price knocked me for a loop. I left with doubts about whether I could take on the economic commitment, even though I knew I had enough discipline to make the approach work. Dana and I had a long discussion. We kept arriving at the same conclusion: I simply had to get this fixed, and somehow we would manage our finances to pay for it out of pocket.
Posted in Angst, Dana, Nonfiction, Personalities, Playtime, Priorities, Vision | No Comments »
Saturday, January 9th, 2010
I’ve made entries before that allude to my progressive vision problem, but I’ve only now decided to formally record some of my experiences during this new year, when I undertake a therapeutic course of action. While learning about this disorder—a form of misalignment generally known as strabismus—I may need to correct some of the information conveyed, as I gain greater or more specific knowledge. At first, I recall noticing an odd head position and disturbing look in my eyes when I closely examined photos of myself. Initially I could dismiss it as an aberration, or comfortably deny that anything meaningful was indicated. Eventually, I came to accept it as my “pirate eye,” and began to avoid looking at others with a leftward glance, which seemed to bring the misalignment into play. Joan mentioned her optometrist to me, but I wasn’t prepared to seriously tackle the situation. By and by, more realizations that the condition was getting worse convinced me I could no longer put off the idea of professional intervention. Dr. Graebe turned out to be a highly capable diagnostician and engaging clinician. He said that I had already lost 60% of my depth perception, with a deficient ability to process uncoordinated binocular movements. Every symptom I described seemed to just reinforce the obvious for him, and I was mildly surprised that I didn’t have some unique or difficult to define condition. And so he prescribed “vision therapy,” based on the awareness that my root problem is not muscular, but involves the brain’s ability to make sense of neurological input from two organs—our source of three-dimensional vision. In addition to setting up an appointment with the Vision and Learning Center, he urged me to read Susan Barry’s Fixing My Gaze. I’m sure it’s not unusual for a person with a health challenge to discover that his or her malady has been ably explained by an author who has faced the same situation in life. Although I still don’t understand the full implications of taking on the discipline of vision therapy, starting the book has triggered numerous memories and personal observations about my sensory experiences since childhood. Dr. G had been particularly struck by my statement that I knew from an early age I was a two-dimensional thinker, preferring the flat surface over volumetric or architectural forms. It caused me to think about whether I have ever possessed “normal” depth perception. For the longest time, foreshortening has bedeviled me as an artist. I’ve always been a slow reader, never been a good driver, nor been favorably inclined to certain eye-hand motor skills, even though it’s clear I had a natural manual dexterity from the beginning. As a marksman, I excel at single-eye target shooting, but ask me to hit something on the move with a shotgun and the results prove embarrassing. 
Saddest of all is when I realized that the awe of star-gazing had slipped away, as my ability to perceive the dimensionality of the night heavens declined. The optimistic hope for improvement, given the functional plasticity of brain neurons, is emphasized by both Susan Barry, Dr. G., and Debra (my therapist). I accept that, in spite of having no comprehension of the difficulties that lie ahead, or how “one must learn to align the eyes and fuse their images, while unlearning the unconscious habit of suppressing vision, which has been occurring perhaps for decades,” or how therapy “requires high motivation and self-awareness, as well as enormous perseverance, practice, and determination.”
We shall see…
Posted in Awe, Dexterity, Family, Joan, Nonfiction, Personalities, Vision, Words | No Comments »
Tuesday, July 21st, 2009
— photo by Clay Jackson. Visit Clay’s Daze today!
• While swimming my weekly mile today, I had to make an effort to quiet the mental static and focus on a steady rhythm of breath and body. I can sometimes lose count of the laps doing that, but there’s so much going on right now that I needed the meditative pause. After the workout I took advantage of the sunny afternoon to shoot some photos around campus for use in an illustration that suddenly became a rush job when I worked on everything else. During the walk home I realized it was time to “come up for air” with this blog and to jot down some overdue notes.
• News came today that Pat R’s shocking, month-long cascade of medical emergencies had come to a lamentable end. My heart goes out to all the Greystonians and their extended family. Our ability to make the trip to Ohio for the burial is complicated by another round of hospitalization for Bruce. He went to Lexington Friday night with more GI bleeding, but it looks like he finally found a team at St. Joe that wants a solution, and to get him back on track for a kidney transplant. Dana stayed with him through the inevitable admission ordeal while I took part in the weekend activities at Blue Bank, including some major attention being given to Spring Hollow and the area around the pond, plus a milestone Clan Council (first on Skype), as well as a long Sunday session for me that nearly completes the stone work on the Hall flue. One more day of labor should do it, and then I move on to the finish carpentry. How many years ago did I begin this project?
• I was a bit surprised that Mombo’s face was healing so fast, although she is still experiencing a visual disassociation between her eyes. I urged her to demand some type of sight rehab or therapeutic exercises from the ophthalmologist. She’s tempted to close or block off one eye to see clearly, and that’s probably the opposite of what she needs in order to regain her eye coordination. Actually, I’m a poor one to judge or make suggestions, since I’ve continued for years to put off a proper examination for my own eye condition.
• The closest I can come to imagining what it would be like to have some type of severe short-term memory problem is what I experience when trying to remember my dreams. No matter how vivid and realistic the images I have when awakening, under most circumstances they will be quickly gone—and irretrievable—if I don’t write them down or make a sketch. Think what it would be like if one was that way with actual waking events. Making notes to oneself would be the only way to function. (Makes me think of my Uncle Art.) It’s true that I do remember some dreams, but they tend to be the ones that reoccur, or the ones I wrote down and periodically read over. There I go again. Didn’t I promise myself I would not use this space to talk about dreams?
Posted in Blogging, Bruce, Craftsmanship, Dana, Death, Exercise, Family, Friends, Mombo, Vision | No Comments »
Friday, July 15th, 2005
Thought a lot about Uncle Clarence today, so I sent him one of my cards. Knowing how much I’ll miss Aunt Alma, I can’t begin to appreciate his sorrow. They were married for almost 73 years!
Also spent some time on the Web trying to find out more about my eye condition. Nothing compares to medical science when it comes to creating barriers to basic understanding. Diplopia— Why not just say “double vision?” Asthenopia— Why not call it “eyestrain?” Nothing doing.
So I have to get used to decrypting phrases like “cyclovertical heterophoria” and “dissociated strabismus complex.”
HELP! I need Maria’s brain!
Posted in Family, Vision | Comments Closed
Tuesday, July 12th, 2005
Dana and I made a Lexington run to do routine errands and get our eyes examined. The eye condition that I’ve had for some time was diagnosed as hyperphoria.
Posted in Dana, Priorities, Vision | Comments Closed
