Hey, cool, a synaesthesia thread!
I have fixed colour associations for letters, numbers, days, months, compass directions and the concepts of left and right. I associate triangles, squares etc. with the colour corresponding to the number of their sides. Like Waht, my A is yellow. My B is a very dark maroon. But we differ on C. Mine is light green.
When I look at a page of writing and I’m not particularly thinking about the individual letters, I don’t see bright and distinct colours superimposed on each letter. But as soon as I let my attention drift from the meaning to the shapes of the letters, I can’t help becoming aware of their “natural” colours: not projected over the real colours in a way that blots out the real colours with imagined ones, but somehow “present together with” the real colours in my mind’s eye, sometimes more strongly present than at other times.
I’m probably not explaining it very well, but I hope my clumsiness of expression doesn’t make it sound too exotic or ineffably mysterious! It’s similar to the way I can picture a scene from memory or imagine something while looking at a real scene without getting the two mixed up, except that the real letters localise the colours somehow, and these colour associations are regular, automatic and spontaneous, compared to the freeform nature of other kinds of associations. If I think of a letter without looking at one, it tends to have its own synaesthetic colour by default, especially if I only think of a fairly abstract idea of the letter without imagining an example of it written down, in which case I can picture it how I choose, although I’ll probably still have a lingering impression of its synaesthetic colour.
For me, yellow is an aspect or attribute of A, part of its nature, and a blue A is an A in disguise! An A in drag?! When I think of the idea now, I have to make a conscious effort to banish the impression of yellow, otherwise saying “a blue A” creates a similar visual impression to “a blue yellow”--I see both colours.
If I need two Greek letters to represent angles, I prefer not to use the traditional theta and phi, as these are both a smoky blue colour, albeit theta a little lighter than the pigeon-blue phi. Alpha and beta, which--like most of the Greek alphabet--have the same colours as their Roman counterparts make a much better contrast. (I should say my first language is English.) A while ago I watched a video--The Mechanical Universe?--that showed electrons as blue and protons as red, the opposite of the colours I associate with the letters E and P. I found this mildly distracting; it meant I had to concentrate slightly harder. It just felt like they were the “wrong” colours. Other than that sort of thing, it’s no trouble.
These colour associations can be handy for recalling numbers or letters, although occasionally if I’m trying to remember a name, say, I might guess it begins with a K when really it begins with T, which are slightly different shades of dark green. “Oh, T,” I think when I find out, “well, I knew it was something green...”
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My first memory of these associations is from when I was about six and writing on the cover of a school project, being careful to use the right coloured crayon, or the best match, for each letter. I didn’t think there was anything exceptional about this. I didn’t think much about it, and it wasn’t till I was 16 that it occurred to me to ask whether other people had a similar experience. My siblings do. My parents don’t. My siblings have different associations for letters, numbers etc. to me. I first heard the word synaesthesia when I was 19. I never knew there was a word for it till then.
I haven’t followed up on many of the links yet, but I was particularly intrigued by the abstract of Simner et al. (2008) ‘Non-random associations of graphemes to colours in synaesthetic and non-synaesthetic populations’, Cognitive Neuropsychology 22:8 [
http://www.informaworld.com/smpp/content~db=all?content=10.1080/02643290500200122
]. One of the first things I did when I got to thinking about these associations, was to collect lists from people of their colour associations, and the few I got seemed pretty random on casual inspection. I don’t think I really realized, at the time, that not everyone has a special fixed set of associations. I just assumed at first that everyone had it, more or less--which undermined the exercise a bit.
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I have strong individual colour associations for each of the single digits, and ten is a clear amber colour, eleven is white like 1, and 12 is a paler, more muted blue than two. Beyond that, the colour of the number depends on those of the digits it’s made of. I was intrigued by the mention from Rhody’s anonymous correspondent in #175 of “letter/number-color-gender” as I also think of numbers as having gender. Some are more sharply distinguished in this way than others. By default, I think of odd numbers as female, but there are some exceptions that are male, and some that could be either. (I’m male myself.) When I was 7 or 8, I used to draw comics in which all the characters were numbers and had their own personalities.
Sadly I’m not aware of any convenient encoding of sophisticated mathematical relationships in my colours for numbers, such as Daniel Tammet describes. I don’t have any special connection such as Waht mentioned between numbers and their squares. When I read StarkRG’s comments on the first page of this thread about adding colours, I was all ready to say it didn’t work like that for me, but weirdly, when I got to thinking about it, I noticed the following correspondences:
3+4=7
RED+YELLOW=ORANGE
2+4=6
BLUE+YELLOW=GREY-GREEN
2+3=5
BLUE+RED=VERY DARK BLUE/BLACK/PURPLE
Oh, and arguably, 3+3+3=9 (RED+RED+RED=DARK RED), if you think of three as a translucent liquid like wine getting darker as more of it is poured into a glass. Which is nice... but in general, the sum of my colours is not the colour of my sums!
When it comes to whole words, with me too, as with Waht, the colour of the initial letter usually predominates. My first, quickest, strongest, readiest association for colour words such as RED, GREEN, BLUE depends on the meaning. That’s the association I have when I just glance at the word or think of it as a whole without paying much attention. But as I look now at the letters I’ve just typed, paying more attention to them, I can’t help but “see” the colours of individual letters emerging.
R, yellow
E, reddish orange
D, black
G, dark, greyish brown
R, yellow
E, reddish orange
E, reddish orange
N, dark red
B, dark maroon
L, white
U, dark grey
E, reddish orange
I suppose it’s a bit like looking at a wire-frame drawing of a cube and seeing one corner as alternately concave or convex, I can switch perspectives by either focusing on the word as a whole, or considering its letters. That said, writing them all out vertically like this does bring out the colours of the individual letters more and make it harder to see picture the colour of the word as a whole without the colours of the letters intruding.
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Sometimes when I’m on the verge of falling asleep, I’ll either experience a small muscle twitch or hear some small real noise, such as a creak or a click, which triggers a very short flash of visual experience, most often like a burst of TV snow.
I often have coloured reveries while listening to music, but in a freeform and voluntary way. I don’t know anything technical about music, and I don’t have colour associations with particular notes, apart from their letter names, but I do have a looser tendency to think of high notes as light, bright, small, sharp and cold/hot, while low notes are dark and big and warm. (But I don’t think that’s uncommon.) Some music gives me tingles [
http://www.cogsci.msu.edu/DSS/2008-2009/Huron/HuronFrisson.pdf ].
I like to speculate: if this smell, sound etc. was a colour or texture... But again, that's a voluntary and playful thing for fun and curiosity, and not like the automatic associations I have between colours and things like letters. Not that they aren’t fun and curious too!