Mostly fruits. Often tart ones. But it’s not universal. The colour doesn’t give the flavour.
But this is going to be a very short text if I treat it like that, so I guess we’ve got to go into the realms of synesthesia to answer that. But I can’t do colour to taste. I’m not particularly certain I can do anything.
For those not knowing, synesthesia is the involuntary muddling of senses, or rather the adding of additional sensory stimulation to other cognitive patterns. Someone might percieve colours and letters or numbers as having inherent colours. Under the influence of LSD a common symptom is being able to ‘see the music’. Aphex Twin quite famously wrote a few pieces of music based on the audio weirdness he heard when staring at plain colours. Of course, Aphex Twin and acid are surrounded by lies and mythology that isn’t necessarily helpful.
Lets get experiential, even if it means taking the answer many miles away from the question. We’ll try and come back.
It recently occurred to me that my relationship with music may have a mild synesthetic attribute. I’ve become accustomed to people looking at me like I’m mental when I describe the way my body reacts to music (particularly loud stuff, which means it normally only happens live).
I think of my relationship with music at extremes in very physical, and so almost sexual, terms. I feel things grow and expand from my perinium upwards, or feel my lungs bursting outwards, bits of my body swelling and tensing with the pressure of the music. Pressure is the right word. The sound waves (pressure changes) bounce onto my eardrums, and create shapes in my brain.
Somehow these shapes seem to get muddled up with my touch input, so I feel groped and impelled by the music. Quite often the pressure builds inside me, ejecting itself through dance, screams and occasionally bites.
So I think that music might become touch for me. I think there may be a miswiring there somewhere.
Or maybe I’m just ridiculous. There’s a good chance that I’m just ridiculous.
Or perhaps; all sensations are related. We feel things on the basis of all the muddles of associations and chemicals coursing through our brain. Music connects to everything else I’ve done, surges through it into new translations.
And maybe purple can to.
Traditionally, we’re looking at royalty, but for me purpleness is that perfect mix of strange and homeley. Purple soothes and relaxes, whilst still being bold and large. It seeks attention but remains open.
It’s hard to translate to taste though. Taste isn’t the most emotional sensation, even though it triggers us hard. I guess it’s more of a memory inspiring thing. That non-rationality of it’s nature means it reconnects us to things unconsciously.
Purple tastes of beetroot. In that it tastes of homeley warmth and strange spiceness all at once. Purple tastes like a tart blackberry, a burst of freshness plucked from brambles. Earthy and shocking.
Illustration by Lucy.