Looking at the 400+ photographs my son managed to take on a simple trip to the hairdressers, several things became apparent. Perhaps the most glaringly obvious was the fact that he is now firmly hooked on photography, of course…. Even I couldn’t have managed that many pictures in such a short, local trip through an unprepossessing town, and believe me, I can take a lot….
Of course, the town doesn’t look so bad when you stop looking at the downside and open your eyes to the beauty that is always there in the hidden corners and the details. A flooded footpath beneath a bridge, a cotoneaster with its herringbone branches smothered in berries, a child’s smile, a perfect reflection on wet tarmac… even a world full of strange creatures and faces in sunlit ripples… Imagination comes to life. There is so much to see when you look beyond the barriers of what you expect to see.
And people certainly don’t expect to see a young man, wrapped up in a coat that makes him look like Michelin Man, rolling towards them in an electric wheelchair, armed with a camera. Even less are they expecting the currently bushy beard, huge grin and the Angry Birds hat….
The hat was a conscious decision. My son, for so long a prisoner of his fears and the destruction of his self-image after the attack that left him in the wheelchair decided that if people were going to look, they might as well look and smile.
The photographs of that trip to the hairdressers give a unique perspective on the way he sees life from the wheelchair. The ladies at the Destiny salon in Aylesbury are lovely, particularly the young woman who cuts Nick’s hair. They have come to know my son over the past couple of years. They do not shy away from his disabilities, nor do they focus on them… they simply see a young man who generally has the place laughing. Other people’s faces caught on camera tell a very different story… several different stories in fact. Seeing the view from the wheelchair captured on the screen was revealing.
To combat the coordination problems, uncertain hands and reduced eyesight Nick tends to have the camera set to burst mode to ensure he does manage to capture the shot he wants. So when there are people in the frame you see a whole series of changing expressions. Small children, who have not yet learned to worry about disability simply see the almost robotic electric wheelchair, the Angry Birds hat and the big grin. They may point and question the parent holding their hand but they inevitably meet my son’s eyes and simply smile back.
So do some adults. On a recent trip to town to photograph the Christmas lights late one evening my son assured me he had only been hugged by one drunken stranger with an ‘I love you, man’, while others had been concerned at seeing him apparently stuck, not realising he was simply taking pictures… and it is nice to know that there are many who will go out of their way to check.
But there are other expressions, eyes that see and immediately look away, some that look with barely veiled disgust. Some whose gaze shies away in panic like a startled horse. Others whose face turns to stone, hiding in immobility, and where you can almost read the thoughts that say, please don’t speak to me…
We have talked about it, Nick and I. He would be the first to admit that before the attack he would have been one of the latter group, not knowing how to handle an encounter with someone whose reactions and capabilities did not, might not, fit a pattern he understood. He too saw only the surface and reacted in what boils down to fear. The fear of not being able to handle something outside his experience. The fear of getting it wrong. A lot of us are like that, perfectly decent people, but the general view of society is epitomised in the word we have assigned to those who face a different set of challenges… dis-abled…. like a machine that has been broken or switched off, as Nick put it one day. The word itself insidiously implies that disabled people are somehow ‘less’ than the rest of us.
Yet, like the unprepossessing town that reveals its beauty to eyes ready to look and see, there is so much more going on beyond the surface we usually judge in that split-second assessment we make of those we meet. How much do we miss by not looking? By staying within the safe confines of our bell jar of expectations. So often we see, but choose the safety of not-to-see, accepting whatever part of our perception is most comfortable. Not just with regard to guys in daft hats and wheelchairs… we accept the smile that hides the broken heart, the laughter that masks the searing pain of insecurity…even the bars of our own self imposed prisons… in exactly the same way a child accepts that Mum ‘isn’t hungry’ when the food won’t stretch that far. Too often we seek the comfort of the known and shy away from anything that challenges us or threatens to upset the status quo… or open our eyes.
My son phoned me while he was out with the camera that has become the tool of his growing awareness of a world his eyes can barely see. “The world is so beautiful! It is full of wonder, as if I am seeing it for the very first time… ” He couldn’t believe what he was finding with his newly awakened awareness because he was looking… the eyes of the heart opened wide to a beauty he had failed to see when he could. He could not believe the colours and textures, the patterns and contrasts in a simple urban street he had thought he knew so well. And in his voice was joy.
Maybe the eyes of the guy in the Angry Birds hat see clearer than he knows.
*All photos by Nick Verron.
Sue Vincent's Daily Echo 
‘He couldn’t believe what he was finding with his newly awakened awareness because he was looking… the eyes of the heart opened wide to a beauty he had failed to see when he could. ‘ nick has been blessed with a talent and a gift many will never have. the universe brings things to us in packages we can never imagine. one of my favorite posts ever.
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Thank you Beth..
Nick paid what many would see as a heavy price for this awareness… yet he wouldn’t go back and change it now if he could.
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That’s lovely, Sue, as are the photos. I think you are right about awareness on all sorts of levels – and your comments upon the way the world tends to view the ‘disabled’ rings very true. Fear? Uncertainty? Over-compensation? To misquote the end of a Grace Nichols poem: ‘The people are the people are the people…’
xxxxx
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It is not just the disabled though, is it, sadly.. we are very good at seeing in others only the things we feel comfortable dealing with and ignoring the rest.The world may be beautiful.. but it isn’t always pretty and if we pretend it is we are doing a disservice both to others and to ourselves. People are people, warts and all xxxx
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Love the look of that last one. So many levels thanks to the mirrors.
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Yes… as many perspectives and meanings behind that one.
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The child looking back at him with a friendly smile is my favorite 🙂
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It’s a lovely shot, isn’t it? 🙂
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It is and the adult in the corner of the shot is looking down and away while the child in her innocent wonder smiles back at him. It is so telling.
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Indeed it looks that way, but we can’t know what was going on to be fair.
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Sue, I’m very glad that you let me know about this post – I would have hated to miss it! You’ve written it well and the story and thoughts are very moving – and Nick being hooked on photography is wonderful – he has character and he’s very courageous >>> and, paradoxically, being unexpected and in a wheelchair may help his photography a lot – I’m especially thinking of his photography of people here. But the whole concept of photos of the world seen from a wheelchair is also a very intriguing and engaging one. There might be media interest.
But the main thing here are his pictures, and I like them. In particular, the 2nd one down, the selfie – wow I’d be proud of that, if that were me it would be out on my blog in no time. And the shot of the little girl smiling back at the camera, and then the eye being taken away down the street, is even more so – being in a wheelchair might lead to many really good shots like this one.
And the last picture, the mono reflection at the hairdressers, is super too – it would be good to get him and his camera a little clearer in the reflection, and that might be achieved by adding contrast and structure. I might be able to do something – can’t guarantee it – but you can see this blog’s email address on the comments I send you – do you want to send me a full quality jpeg? A tiff would be better, but it might be too big to send on an email, I don’t know.
Anyway, great stuff! Its so good to hear about these happenings! Adrian
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Thank you Adrian,
I am hoping Nick will take this a long way… if only for himself. And to be fair his next stop is Singapore….
The view from the wheelchair is a very different perspective on the world… a child’s eye level and adult mind and intellect, yet a child’s wonder and openness…Plus the interaction with a world that is observing the observer.
Nick has just read this, and called me to see if I had… and say thank you. I’m going to get him to send that photo across.
Thank you Adrian!
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So wise and inspiring, Sue. Thanks to you and Nick! Shine on….xo
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Thank you Sirena… he’s doing some gorgeous stuff 🙂 xx
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Nick’s photos are excellent. As is your post, Sue. When my children were young, I was delighted to re-discover the world thru their eyes – realize their joy and awe. Nick has captured that. His positive spirit is inspiring.
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Yes, a child’s eye level and a childlike awe and wonder, with the mind and intellect of a man focussing the lens.. I think he has something, you know 🙂
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Hugs, Sue. You see so clearly, and on so many levels. *WG
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I try to look..x
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I really enjoy his photography
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Thank you Pamela.. so do I 🙂
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