I See What You’re Saying: The Colorful World of Synesthesia

What color is the letter H, the number 4, or the sound of a barking dog? What would it feel like to touch Thursday, and how would it taste? What does the color orange sound like?

If you can answer any of these you may have a neurological difference called synesthesia, which occurs in about 1 of every 2,000 people. Anyone can have it but it’s more common in neurodiverse people, coexisting with differences such as ADHD or my own autism. Synesthesia causes sensory information to be crossed with uninvolved senses, either through physical experience with projective synesthesia or a strong connection and mental image with associative synesthesia These people are called synesthetes, and I am one of them.

There are many forms of synesthesia, and within each type the presentation varies from person to person. My type is called associative chromesthesia. I can see sounds as complex animated images with color, shape, texture, movement, and sometimes touch or flavor. A single voice speaking is usually a textured abstract of one main color in similar shades, and shifts into other nearby colors with a change in emotion and emphasis. Most people have pretty consistent colors, like my husband’s warm honeyed amber.

Music is a completely different level of experience. Each component sound has its own visual representation and animation, changing and being influenced by the mix, all happening simultaneously in real-time. It looks like a vivid and surreal full-color world for some songs, psychedelic patterns or neon lights for others. I recently started learning new art skills and made my first few attempts at illustrating sounds for others. My simplified artistic baby steps can’t capture anywhere near the complexity and intensity that I experience but it is a hint of what I see.

A few seconds of music as seen by a person with chromesthesia

These experiences are amazing, but not all are good. Loud, crowded places with many jumbled sounds are the auditory and visual equivalent of being smothered under an avalanche of discordant images from sounds I can’t process. Some harsh, loud sounds pop up a visual so strong that it can temporarily blind me from understanding real sight — a potentially dangerous problem when a smoke alarm goes off.

I had no idea that synesthesia existed until I was almost 30, when I described someone’s aggravating tainted yellow voice to my husband. They’d never met so he wouldn’t know their voice color but anyone would understand that, right? Turns out, no. My husband was very confused until he remembered reading about synesthesia and pulled out a book of odd facts to show me. I still find it difficult to believe that nearly everyone else is sound-blind and will never experience the transcendent joy of listening to favorite songs while immersed in watching all the fascinating and beautiful imagery painted by the sound. I can visit alternate realities that will never be seen by another person just by hitting play.

We’re each given different levels of perception, interpretation, and focus. As an autistic person, I miss many social cues but notice patterns and details that others do not. As a synesthete, I have a sense that’s alien and incomprehensible to most people. I wonder how others perceive their own worlds. Which differences do others have that they regard as normal and common to nearly everyone, and how many would be completely surprised to learn they’re unique? How many more amazing experiences exist for our own friends, families, or communities?