⭐⭐⭐⭐ (4/5)
I can’t remember a time when color wasn’t more than just something I saw—it was something I felt. From an early age, I could sense the subtlest shifts in hue, feeling the difference between shades others would call identical. Color wasn’t just visual for me; it carried emotion, depth, and even sensation. But I never had the words to explain this experience—until I read Synesthesia by Richard E. Cytowic.
For the past eight years, I’ve lived with Idiopathic Intracranial Hypertension, a condition that has altered the way my brain processes sensory input. While I’ve always experienced a strong interplay between color, sound, and emotion, the boundaries between my senses have blurred even further since my diagnosis. Yet, for most of my life, I assumed this was simply part of being me—something I never questioned.
I had heard of synesthesia before, but my understanding of it was surface-level—I thought it was just seeing colors when hearing music or associating numbers with specific hues. But Synesthesia shattered that narrow perception. Cytowic reveals the vast and varied ways synesthesia manifests, from people who "taste" words to those who "see" time as a physical shape. Suddenly, many of my own lifelong experiences made sense in a new light.
One of the most profound realizations this book brought me was how my connection to color has shaped my life. I never just saw colors—I felt them. I instinctively knew how to mix and match shades, not just by sight but by how they resonated with me emotionally. Whether it was crayons, paints, or eyeshadows, I could recreate a color with uncanny accuracy based purely on how it made me feel.
That moment in middle school stuck with me. I didn’t just enjoy working with color—I understood it in a way that felt instinctual. Years later, that realization became the foundation of my career in professional makeup artistry, where my ability to manipulate color became my signature skill. Eventually, it led me to create a custom lip color brand, which turned into a highly successful business. I had always assumed I simply had an eye for color—but Synesthesia helped me understand that my experience runs much deeper.
Cytowic’s writing is both accessible and engaging, weaving together neuroscience, case studies, and historical context in a way that never feels dense. He breaks down the science of synesthesia with clarity, making the book an excellent primer for those new to the topic. However, while Cytowic excels at explaining the science, I found myself craving a deeper dive into the emotional and memory-based aspects of synesthesia. These connections feel central to the experience, yet they weren’t explored as fully as I’d hoped.
For me, Synesthesia was more than just an academic exploration—it was validation. What I once thought was just me being different turned out to be a shared phenomenon among synesthetes worldwide.
If you’ve ever felt like your senses don’t quite operate the way others say they should, or if you’re simply fascinated by the hidden complexities of perception, Synesthesia is a must-read. It doesn’t just explain a neurological condition—it reveals a world where the senses intertwine in ways most people never imagine.
For some of us, that world isn’t just fascinating—it’s home.