This is Not a Photograph

[janradder]

Whenever I hear Mission of Burma I see black and white photographs.  The blacks are dark, rich, almost overpowering as they fill most of the image.  Shadows abound over everything, in corners, in foregrounds, in backgrounds.  And as powerful and all encompassing as the blacks are, the whites come blazing through in brilliant white bursts of noise, making the photographs appear as if parts are overexposed, they bleed through into those deep rich hues of darkness, blotting it out, shining through.  Rarely, probably never do I see colors. If I do, they are cold icy blues, barely visible to the eye.  A Burma song is an image of a cold, dark basement, where a small group of individuals cram together, guitars, drums and amps, fighting off the New England chill around them, dust motes in the air captured in the light of each note and cord, the drums and bass providing a wash of crisp undertones, flooding over each image.  The songs do not swirl but surge, seemingly unstoppable.  I see each photograph in my mind, see each bleed, each swath, each sound cutting through and washing over, filling the room and the imagination.  I see each photograph, but I do not know what I see, I am bathed in the light and sound of Burma.

Comments

[dsgood.livejournal.com]

In case you don't already know: This is one form of synesthesia.

See http://home.comcast.net/~sean.day/Synesthesia.htm

[janradder.livejournal.com]

That's very interesting. I don't actually see things in front of me but I do see them in my mind's eye. I also associate numbers and sometimes letters with colors and, in some cases, personalities (though not fully fleshed out -- there are some numbers and letters that I just don't like. There's something about their nature that turns me off to them -- 7 for instance as well as 17 and most other numbers involving 7, although seven -- written out -- does not carry those same negative connotations). I don't always see the color and I've never tracked things enough to know if the color is always the same. Musically, I don't always see colors but when I really focus on a piece of music I usually picture the sounds in physical arrangements. For instance, a jazz piece might have the horns creating horizontal lines across the top of my image (sort of like steady streams) while the drums and bass will be over in the left corner, below the horns and bouncing around sort of like connecting points on a crazy spiderweb. I never knew there was a medical condition for this.

[janradder.livejournal.com]

Seeing and reading more about synesthesia, I certainly don't exhibit anywhere near the level of cross-sensory perceptions as these people do.