Borges and Blindness

I've been reading Jorge Luis Borges' collected fictions. He writes a lot about his blindness. As an experiment, I walked around the apartment for a few minutes with eyes closed. I was amazed at how disorienting it is. The noises became crisper, the breezes from the fans easier to detect, but my balance isn't so hot.

I wonder how much we work our eyes when we don't need to, especially considering that the national pastime is sitting in front of a screen that flashes lights directly into out retinas. Borges had memorized a lot of poetry before he went blind, so he had a lot to draw from when he lost the ability to read.

I wonder whether the real role of poetry is to commit to memory those things worthy (and possible). Then I thought of ears and realized their underused role in my own creative process. What if I were to go blind? I need to use memory and my ears as tools.

I wonder if I read to much, too. I brought no books onto the train today (which is where I do most of my reading, it seems). It's shocking how the eyes jump when watching passing scenery. Not much more than they move when reading, I suppose.