Home
Synesthesia
- Details
- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Ideas & Questions
- Hits: 1838
Common among artists, Synesthesia is a cross wiring of the senses that allows the Synesthete to experience one sense (for example colour) in conjuntion with another (such as taste or sound). For example, a Synesthete might describe the color red as being hot, brown as being slick, and blue as making a ringing sound akin to a telephone, another might describe the sound of C Sharp as "tasting salty". Various explanations exist for the condition.
Famous synesthetes include Vladimir Nabokov (see his autobiography "Speak Memory"), Duke Ellington , David Hockney and Richard Feynmann.
Further links and videos are listed below.
Brief definition with examples at: Absolute Astronomy
Website for Synesthetes: www.synesthete.org
YouTube clip explaining: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DvwTSEwVBfc
Dream Logic
- Details
- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Dreams
- Hits: 1789
There is a strange logic to dreams, "Dream Logic" I like to call it. It's where seemingly random associations become imbued with meaning. People, strangers become lovers and confidantes and you don't question it, it's part of the dream. Old neighborhoods become both strange and familiar, where you can become lost in your own house, or take a shortcut that leads you across the world. Distant friends and schoolmates will reunite, people long forgotten in conscious thought reappear in new guises, new relations. In dreams, the mind functions as a whole, disbelief is suspended, incredible events are accepted as ordinary and subservient to a twisted, twisting logic that perverts and recreates memory. One has a dream and in it one recognizes an almost instant familiarity, as if one has had this dream before, never the exact same dream, but the same dream nonetheless. And yet upon awakening it is brand new. And they have the ability to overwrite memory, I have woken from dreams of my childhood, of a childhood I never experienced in a house filled with strangers become relatives, in a town I have never visited become home, yet in the dream I recognized it all and awoke strangely saddened that this dream wasn't my childhood. And strangely disturbed.
I need a TV
- Details
- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Miscellany
- Hits: 2259
I need a TV.
Perhaps need is not the right word, who, after all, really needs a TV? But, from time to time I'd like to rent and watch a movie. And having the children huddled around the laptop - well, it's not exactly the same. There is a problem, however, in that I'm a TV snob...much as some people pride themselves on their 52 inch HD Plasma home theatre systems, I pride myself on not owning one. There are other things we can do, walks, read books, conversation.
Still, sometimes it would be nice to watch a movie.
And so I oscillate, finding TV's, wondering if I should purchase them, not purchasing them and privately enjoying my superiority, until Friday night comes and I wish to rent a movie for the children...
I need a TV.
Old dream of ship at sea
- Details
- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Dreams
- Hits: 1971
Last night a few dreams, a mixed-up hodge podge, I awoke to write them down, but saw no meaning in them; I was tired, they were random and chaotic, I didn't turn on the light and fell back asleep.
So I'll write of another dream once I had, an old dream - animated in rich blues and amber. It made an impression.
I am a point of view at sea, no substance, only my senses, flying, there is a tempest and from the waves rise up waterspouts that meet with the low and ragged clouds, then turn into Atlanteans, briefly, bearing the sky upon their shoulders, and then rain back, falling into the sea. I am flying through this, it is animated, deep blues, flashes of lightning illuminate the denizens of the deep, translucent jellyfish and giant shadows swarming beneath. As a wave subsides I move in, there is a ship spinning in a trough between the waves, an old galleon, timbers lit from within like logs on a fire, hot embers and glowing salamanders flicker upon the surface. I move into the cabin, there a small chest, a treasure, as I approach it opens, and within it on a velvet lining there is a silver hand holding a pen. It is almost too brilliant to behold..
I awake.
An interesting link on how television shapes our dreams: http://www.telegraph.co.uk/earth/main.jhtml?view=DETAILS&grid=&xml=/earth/2008/10/17/scidream117.xml
Page 859 of 875