One of my best-kept secrets is that I'm terribly nearsighted. I wear contacts most of the time, but my glasses are nearly a centimeter thick on the outer edges. In two ways, I'm lucky — first, that I live in a part of the world that easily provides glasses and contacts, and second, that my eyes' shortcomings can be fixed by anything at all.
Last week, I sat on the back porch of Kurt Weston, a Huntington Beach resident who is legally blind, and interviewed him about his life as a photographer. I could see him a few feet away, but he couldn't see me, really — nothing beyond a flesh-colored shape, he said. It's the same way he sees people when he takes their picture, before he steps into the dark room with his thick right-eye lens and finds out what image he just captured.
"I would be really depressed, I think, if I couldn't still do my work," Weston told me, a stack of books of his photographs covering the table next to him.