Chris Owen’s Altered View

07/09/2026

When Chester took early retirement back in April, my world was turned upside down. Not only did I have to deal with saying goodbye to the companion I’d had for 3 years, I also had to adjust to a totally different way of finding my independence. But it wasn’t just me, the whole family had to cope with losing a huge part of their lives.

Since then, I’ve been getting the occasional update about how he’s been getting on, and then the other day an email arrived with the subject line “Chester’s new home”.

I’m not going to share what was in that email – that’s between me and Chester’s new owner – but I can say that it gave me something I realise I’ve needed for a quite some time: reassurance.

Chester is somewhere he will be loved, where he’ll get the exercise he needs and where he’ll get the attention he deserves.

And perhaps knowing that he has moved forward is what I needed to start doing the same.

A Letter From Home is my latest Musings from a Blind Man.

Read it on Substack:

Sometimes moving forward begins with knowing that the dog who changed your life has found his way too.

31/08/2026

I know exactly where I’m going. Until someone moves the path.

Reading Station is somewhere I know well. I know the routes, the landmarks and the reference points I use to work out where I am and where I need to go.

But with Reading Festival taking place, temporary barriers had been put across my usual route.

For most people, a temporary barrier means a slight detour. When you’re navigating with sight loss, it can be a very different experience. Suddenly the route you know isn’t there anymore and the landmarks and reference points you rely upon don’t necessarily lead where you expect them to.

But this is also a positive story.

One of the festival volunteers directing people towards the shuttle buses spotted that I’d reached a dead end. Without making a fuss, she came over, asked if I needed some help, offered me her elbow and guided me around the closure before sending me on my way.

Temporary closures and diversions are sometimes unavoidable, particularly around huge events like this. But it’s worth remembering that their impact isn’t the same for everyone.

And sometimes making that environment more accessible doesn’t require complicated technology or grand gestures.

Sometimes it’s simply about noticing.

So a big thank you to the volunteer who noticed, and to everyone from Reading and Leeds Festival and GWR working to keep thousands of people moving over a very busy weekend. 👏



VIDEO DESCRIPTION: Video from Chris’ perspective as he walks down some steps outside Reading Station and finds his usual route blocked by temporary barriers. A volunteer, wearing a bucket hat and denim jacket and holding a Reading Festival sign directing people towards the buses, notices what has happened and comes over to offer help and her elbow. The video then speeds up as she guides Chris around the barriers towards the main road, where he continues on his way.

23/08/2026

Sometimes the subject of an exhibition and the way that exhibition has been designed come together so perfectly that one makes the other even more powerful.

That happened to me in Berlin, in a small museum hidden away down an alley covered in graffiti and street art. It tells the story of a remarkable man and the blind, visually impaired and deaf Jewish people he tried to protect from the N***s. And, perhaps fittingly, it has been designed so that disabled visitors can experience that story with a remarkable degree of independence.

Otto Weidt was a Berlin brushmaker who, after becoming almost completely blind himself, employed mainly blind, visually impaired and hearing-impaired Jewish workers in his workshop during the N**i regime. A determined opponent of National Socialism, he used his business, bribery, false documents and hiding places to protect his workers from persecution and deportation, helping several to survive. Today, the original workshop is home to the Museum Blindenwerkstatt Otto Weidt, preserving both their stories and the remarkable courage of a man who refused to simply stand by.

The museum is tucked away along a graffiti-laden alley known as Dead Chicken Alley, a haven for street artists just a stone’s throw from the historic Museumsinsel, and is a truly magnificent example of how to make an exhibition dedicated to the persecution of deaf and blind people accessible to all visitors.

The first thing you notice as you get to the top of the stairs on the first floor is the tactile marking denoting the top of the stairs. Just behind this is a pair of tramlines, perfectly suited to running a cane tip along. When you reach the next tactile “flag”, your cane tip is naturally taken to the left towards the reception desk, where they offer you a free audio tour handset. From there, your tip takes you back along the tramlines to the first stopping point – a tactile map of the exhibition, with a handy cane holder to the side so you can have two free hands to explore it.

All the way around, these tactile flags naturally take you to the left or right and stop exactly beside the next point on the tour, which you listen to by feeling across the Braille numbering – or tactile numbers for those who don’t read Braille.

Listening to the story of how this unlikely hero of the Holocaust used his connections and experience to outmanoeuvre the authorities and protect some of the most vulnerable disabled Jewish people from an almost certain fate, while also hiding and protecting Jewish families in and around his factories, was truly heartbreaking. It is a story every bit as deserving of being told as so many of the other moving stories about the heroes of this era.

And for an exhibition telling the story of the persecution of blind and deaf people to also be one of the most accessible museum experiences I’ve ever had really did bring a lump to my throat.

17/08/2026

I need a little help…

Over the last few months, Altered View has been growing into something much bigger than the old Blind Man with a Backpack — articles, social media, public speaking and, hopefully very soon, the return of the podcast.

There’s just one problem.

I can record it. I can interview people. I can talk for Britain. What my sight is preventing me from doing easily any more, is use the editing software needed to turn all of that into a finished podcast.

So I’m asking for help.

I’m looking for someone who knows their way around audio editing and would be interested in helping me bring the Altered View podcast back to life.

This isn’t about creating something ridiculously polished or corporate. Quite the opposite. I want to keep the conversations natural, honest and unmistakably Altered View — I just need someone who can help me turn the recordings into something ready to publish.

If that sounds like you, or you know somebody who might be interested, please drop me a message or email me at [email protected]

And if you can’t help directly, a share would be hugely appreciated. You never know who it might reach.

🎙️ Same world. Different perspective.



Video description
Chris is sat in his home office/studio talking into a microphone. The video flips between wide-angle, close-up and floor screen.

09/08/2026

These glasses have been a breath of fresh air for me.

Not because they’re accessibility technology. In fact, that’s exactly why I find them so exciting.

My Meta glasses are cutting-edge, mainstream technology that anyone can go out and buy — but they also happen to have accessibility built in.

As someone with sight loss, they can help me access information I might otherwise miss, read things I can’t see and better understand what’s around me.

That, for me, is what genuine inclusive design should look like.

But they’re certainly not perfect.

I’ve experienced inaccurate answers, descriptions that don’t provide anywhere near enough detail and audio that struggles badly in noisy environments.

Those are problems with the technology. There’s another problem that isn’t.

People.

Some people have chosen to use these glasses to secretly record others without their consent. The result is that they’ve been labelled “pervert glasses”, viewed with suspicion and banned from some pubs and other venues.

And that creates a very different problem for people like me.

Something that gives me genuine independence can suddenly become something I feel uncomfortable wearing. Something I may have to justify. Or potentially something I’m simply told I can’t use.

All because of the actions of people using the technology in ways that make others feel unsafe or violated.

We should absolutely be having conversations about privacy and consent. But we also need to recognise what could be lost along the way.

Mainstream technology with accessibility built in is exactly where we should be heading.

It would be a terrible shame if the actions of a few disgusting people made that accessibility socially unacceptable for everyone else.



Meta Oakley

03/08/2026

Three days. One incredible city.

We had such an amazing time exploring New York. From Central Park to Liberty Island and everywhere in between it was a fabulous time.

Image descriptions in captions

20/07/2026

Over the past few months, one thing has quietly overshadowed almost everything else at home: renewing William’s Disability Living Allowance.

Carrying on my Musings from a Blind Man series, this latest piece explores something many disabled people and their families know all too well: the constant battle of proving your needs to people who have never lived your life.

Although inspired by our recent DLA renewal, this isn’t really about benefits. It’s about the unseen work, emotional exhaustion and relentless advocacy that so many disabled people and families quietly undertake simply to secure the support they need.

Every few years, you’re asked to reduce the person you love to a stack of evidence and hope a stranger understands.

That, to me, is the real burden of proof.

If you’ve ever been through this process—or wondered what it’s really like—I hope this offers a different perspective.

🔗 Read “The Burden of Proof” here:

https://open.substack.com/pub/alteredcore/p/musings-from-a-blind-man-the-burden?r=821tag&utm_medium=ios

The greatest burden isn’t completing the paperwork. It’s having to prove, time and again, that the life you’re living is real.

19/07/2026

There seems to be so much negativity in the world at the moment. Every time we turn on the television or pick up our phones, we’re reminded of everything that’s going wrong.

As someone living with sight loss, I – and so many others with disabilities – regularly experience the less positive side of human nature. Whether it’s inconsiderate behaviour, thoughtless comments, or people simply not understanding the challenges we face, it can sometimes feel like the negative moments outweigh the positive ones.

But that’s exactly why it’s so important to celebrate the good.

Every day I also encounter people who quietly make the world a better place. Someone who holds a door open. A stranger who offers an arm without making a fuss. Someone who simply takes a moment to ask if I’m okay or whether I need any help.

They probably don’t think twice about those moments afterwards, but I do. Those small, random acts of kindness can completely change someone’s day and remind us that compassion is still all around us.

We spend a lot of time highlighting what’s broken in the world. Maybe we should spend a little more time celebrating the people who quietly make it better.

So today, I’d simply like to say thank you. Your kindness matters more than you probably realise.

I’d love to hear your stories too. What’s the kindest thing a stranger has ever done for you?

Same world. Different perspective.

11/07/2026

About 5 years ago I created Blind Man with a Backpack as a way of making sense of losing my sight.

Along the way it became something much bigger than I’d ever imagined. It introduced me to incredible people, opened doors I never expected, and gave me a platform to share life with sight loss.

But over time, something changed.

The stories were no longer just about blindness. They became about perspective, resilience, accessibility, family, technology, travel, food, photography and finding a different way to experience the same world.

That’s why today, Blind Man with a Backpack becomes Altered View.

The voice hasn’t changed.

The values haven’t changed.

The stories certainly haven’t changed.

Just the name.

Same world. Different perspective.

Image descriptions
Video: An animation going from the old blind man with a backpack logo which blurs into the new Altered View logo.
Image 1: The retiring Blind Man with a Backpack logo on black background - The words surround a white circle with a backpack outlined within
Image 2: The new Altered View logo - a white eye outline with altered view words circling the lens and a white cane as the iris. Beneath are the words “Same world, different perspective”
Image 3: The text “One story. Every platform, However you choose to follow, Altered View is here” and the new account names which are AlteredViewUK for Instagram, Facebook and Threads, AlteredViewMedia for TikTok and Substack, AlteredViewVideo for YouTube, website is www.alteredview.co.uk and email is [email protected]

04/07/2026

“When are you getting your next guide dog?”

It’s probably the question I’m asked more than any other at the moment.

It’s a fair question, but the answer isn’t quite as simple as popping down to the pet shop and coming home with a new dog.

I thought I’d put together this video to explain what actually happens when you apply for a guide dog, because it’s a process that very few people ever get to see.

It starts with conversations about my mobility, how I travel, the routes I use and the support I have around me. From there, the assessment process begins in earnest, with mobility assessments, vision rehabilitation visits and discussions about every aspect of daily life.

Guide Dogs don’t just look at whether someone would like another dog. They consider your home environment, family circumstances, other pets, work, travel and lifestyle. Eventually, all of that information helps them identify the type of dog that would be the best match.

The important thing to remember is that they’re not trying to find me a guide dog.

They’re trying to find me the right guide dog.

That takes time, and there are still many stages to work through before we even reach the point where a match can be considered.

So, where am I now?

Very much in the slow lane.

The assessments are only just getting underway, and there’s still a long road ahead before we reach the waiting stage. For now, Chester is off doing his thing, I’m getting on with life using my white cane, and together we’ll see where this journey leads.

Of course I’d love to be working with another guide dog again one day, but I’ve learned that this process isn’t about speed. It’s about giving both the person and the dog the very best chance of becoming a successful partnership.

I’ll keep sharing updates as the journey continues.

If you’ve got any questions about guide dogs or the application process, pop them in the comments and I’ll do my best to answer them in a future video.

Altered View
Same world. Different perspective.

—-

This video reflects my own experience of the guide dog reapplication process. Every application is different, and timescales and assessments will vary depending on individual circumstances.