John Bramblitt: Vision without Sight
"When I'm painting, I'm enveloped in the color... Colors are emotion, are energy... I want to make the emotions hit you over the head."
- John Bramblitt
His artworks have been displayed in over 20 nations, and made him the subject of numerous media stories.
A documentary about him was voted YouTube's Most Inspirational Video of 2008.
He has received three US Presidential awards for volunteerism, in recognition of his free art workshops for inner-city kids.
And yet, he's never seen a single one of his own paintings.
Because John Bramblitt lost his eyesight... before he ever picked up a brush.
Growing up in Denton, Texas, a small community near Dallas, John was no stranger to adversity.
He was plagued by crippling epileptic seizures from the age of two, and as he grew older, they became more and more frequent. There were some months when there were so many that he'd lose count.
By the time he reached high school, he had learned to accept the temporary blurred vision he experienced after each severe attack. As time went on, however, his vision would stay blurry longer after each episode... until he could no longer see at all.
In 2001, at the age of 29, he was declared legally blind.
His initial responses were exactly what you might expect: sadness, frustration, and anger.
He continued taking classes, and eventually graduated with a degree in English. But he became depressed. He had always loved to draw and write, and now blindness had robbed him of his creative outlets.
"One of my greatest fears is being trapped and being labeled."
Rebelling against the unfairness of the situation, he decided to pursue a creative activity that nobody would expect or believe him capable of. He would take up a purely visual art: painting.
He began to spend as long as 16 hours a day in front of a canvas... in addition to attending classes at college.
For Bramblitt, becoming a painter was an act of pure defiance towards the random cruelty of fate.
But he now credits it for having helped him ultimately to accept his blindness, and move forward. When he was working on a canvas, the intense focus required seemed to make his anger fade away.
And the amazing part (for most people) was this: his paintings were good. Not just good for a blind man, either... these paintings were emotive, moody and powerful. The colors were rich and vibrant. The subjects were intensely personal, mostly drawn from real people and events in his life.
Clearly, the ability to create visual art wasn't limited to those who could see!
"Whenever I hear music, I see color.
Since this is a painting destined for Holland, in the background I'm painting the Dutch national anthem... note for note, the way that I see it whenever I hear the anthem played."
But how does he do it? How does a blind person transfer what he sees in his mind to the canvas?
John has his own unique method, similar to paint-by-number, but much more complex, to create what he calls "a mental map" of the painting.
First he draws the piece as an outline, using a dispenser of thick fabric paint to create fine raised lines that he will be able to feel once the paint dries.
Once the outline has dried, the second stage begins. Gripping a brush or paint knife and keeping his remaining fingertips in constant touch with his "map", he fills each area with color... covering his guide-lines with primer, to leave no trace of the outline. While painting he "sees" with one hand, feeling the paint with the other.
What about color choice? How does he know what color he's using?
The answer is, by using a different sense to replace his sight... in this case, his sense of touch.
Bramblitt has learned to distinguish between different hues and tones of oil paint based on their texture and viscosity.
He says that each color has a different feeling to the touch. White is thick and gritty, like toothpaste; black is oily and runny. Grey is a mix of those elements, and he can judge its tone by its consistency. His favorite color to paint with is electric blue. "It's so creamy," he said. "It feels soft like human skin; it's silky and fun to work with."
"I've got a constant stream of images in my mind - that doesn't change with losing your vision."
The painter attributes his skills... both in art, and in everyday life... to concentration and memorization. He calculates and visualizes every brushstroke and every inch of canvas, in the same way that he must count every step he takes down the sidewalk or tune his ears to oncoming traffic.
As well as receiving public attention for his painting, in 2005 John began to hold art workshops for people with disabilities, to show them what they were capable of.
Today he and his wife and son travel around the country, hosting and teaching workshops for blind and sighted children, adults and artists. His once daily seizures have drastically reduced in number and severity... something he attributes to the serenity that art has brought him.
He also gives art classes for large groups of children, blindfolding them to let them experience art as he does... and leaving them with the clear message that creativity accepts no limitations.
Still looking to break through the preconceptions that hold blind people back, John Bramblitt took his first flying lesson this summer.
Clearly, this is someone who refuses to let anything restrict him.
So what is the mark of John Bramblitt? I think there are several great lessons, all of which we know but sometimes forget.
We all possess more abilities than we are even aware of - and fewer real limitations. If we push ourselves, virtually anything is possible, and human history has been written by leaders who understand this.
We must be prepared to adapt though, because nothing stays still. Although his sight was gone, John had to invent his own ways to become adept in a purely visual medium. To allow him to navigate the real world independently, and also to "see" an entire painting in his mind, he has also had to develop both his memory for details and his visualization of 3D space to a fine edge.
And we must be unafraid to fail sometimes. John's no fool; he "knew" perfectly well when he began that a blind man couldn't possibly create an appealing or recognizable painting. He simply didn't care. He refused to be limited by the fear of failure, or what others might think. And that freed him to achieve anything.
"It wasn't until I lost my sight that I became brave enough to fail. Even if the paintings didn't look good, I didn't have to see them."
