...or teared up, anyway.

Ever since my 2010 diagnosis with retinitis pigmentosa, I have allowed my story to be told in an effort to bring hope to the blind and low vision community, and perhaps even more importantly, to raise awareness. For this reason, often I have written out my "artist-going-blind" mantra: in this blog, in dozens of articles internationally, even in a book. But very rarely do I have the opportunity to verbally share what it's like to slowly lose my vision. Recently I was interviewed by Seattle's King 5 News weeknight program Evening Magazine where I had the opportunity to share a little more about my darkening world, and particularly how Instagram has played such an integral role in my story.

Since Nick & I stubbornly refuse to pay for cable, whenever we want to catch something on TV we often end up watching it while on the elliptical at the gym. Last night was no exception (and yes, I felt a bit ridiculous going to the gym strictly for TV). As I watched my face get choked up on a giant screen overlooking dozens of cardio machines, mindless Seattleites in the middle of their workouts watched with me, gazing up, unaware that I was among them. I was very conscious of how typical that is. My disease doesn't scream out, it's not noticeable; when you're around me you can't tell I have it most of the time. And I'm grateful for that. Grateful that even though at times this disease can feel so very isolating, so very painful... most of the time, I blend in and am just plain normal.

Once again, I owe the many people who have encouraged and supported and prayed for me along the way a gigantic THANK YOU. You help me get through the dark moments; you help me see my faith clearly when it seems to dim. Much love to you all, from the bottom of my heart.