If i were a gifted painter , I'd present our condition like this, blindness like a black river, flowing slowly like a melody towards great falls. On its banks, beuatiful trees and flowers and birds singing beautifully. The other river, coming from the other side is as clear as the purest crystal. This one also follows slowly, but without any sound. Deep down, there's a very dark and deep lake, where the two rivers meet. Where they join, there are rocks, making the waters foam, afterwards to let them flow silently and slowly into that somber reservoir which lies in a deadly calm, only troubled by an occasional ripple, representing the struggle of the deaf-blind. I don't know if you can understand this. The rocks who tear the waters stand for the depression that the blind and the deaf feel when they become deaf-blind. I can't explain any better. It's how I feel, but it's hard to put in words.