written and posted by members of Lancashire Dead Good Poets' Society

Wednesday, 8 February 2023

Blue And Other Hues

So that’s Monday and Friday; January, March, April and August; John, Michael, David and Sonny.
All blue, though different hues. And in case you think I’ve totally cracked, let me explain.

My name is Jill Reidy and I’m a synaesthete.
There, I’ve said it.

If you’re not sure what synaesthesia means, here’s a simple definition. ‘a condition in which someone experiences things through their senses in an unusual way, for example by experiencing a colour as a sound, or a number as a position in space: A person with synaesthesia may, more rarely, taste sounds, names or colours.’ It’s as though one’s senses have got muddled and gone into overdrive, overlapping with each other until the edges become blurred.

In my case I have colour/grapheme and spacial sequence synaesthesia. Hence the blue days, months and names above. I also have Ordinal Linguistic Personification, which means I assign personalities to inanimate objects. Plus some more obscure synaesthetic tendencies, but I’ll save that for another day.

Apart from the days, months and people’s names, ordinary nouns also have colours. Some are obvious, of course. The word, ‘cheese’ flashes up yellow; ‘sea’ is blue; ‘paper’ white. However, words like ‘dress,’ ‘shoes,’ ‘door.’ where the actual object could be any colour, stick to just the one in my head. So dress is always red, shoes are grey and door is mustard yellow. When I’ve been quizzed on this, I sometimes find it difficult to think of the colour. I know it’s there but it’s a bit like a dream or a distant memory, where I’m trying to clutch at the rapidly fading thoughts. However, I can’t think of a time when Saturday wasn’t white, and Tuesday a short fat rectangle of rusty orange.

Up until about twenty years ago I assumed everybody thought like me, and saw things as I did. It was all I’ve ever known so I never even gave it a thought. However all that changed the day I was listening to R4s Home Truths with John (blue) Peel, one Saturday (white) afternoon. The programme was always interesting, with the host investigating unusual and obscure things. I was only vaguely listening as I busied myself round the kitchen, but my ears pricked up as I heard him mention associating words with colour. ‘So what?’ I thought, ‘everybody does that.‘ It turned out that not everybody does do that. In fact, it all seemed to be quite puzzling to those without the condition.

Wait. How can you think about next week if you don’t see the days in front of you? How can you talk about Wednesday if you don’t visualise the shiny orange triangle as I do? How can you know what you’re doing on Sunday if it’s not projected onto that plain black rectangle? I honestly can’t get my head around seeing nothing.


You see, my week not only has colours and shapes but also textures. I couldn’t quite convey in the diagram, but Friday has a bobbly texture. I’m not sure what it’s called but it’s the same fabric as some coats in the 1950s. And, as I’ve already mentioned, Wednesday is shiny. Thursday is a thin, straggly pink. In fact Thursday’s whole personality is slightly pathetic.

I wondered if it was something to do with being creative, but I couldn’t find any real evidence for this. Synaesthesia seems to be pretty random. Half my family and friends can describe in great detail the layout of their virtual calendars, the colours of the months or the shapes of days, whilst the other half simply stare and shake their heads in complete puzzlement.

Having now confirmed every reader’s suspicion that this writer has finally cracked and lost the plot, I think I’ll just leave it there. I’d love to hear from anybody who can relate to any of this. But please don’t tell me that Saturday’s red and Friday’s green, when we all know they’re white and bobbly navy blue.

Blue and Other Hues


Write about blue they said
That’s this week’s topic
I started off all right
But it went a bit haywire
When I felt I had to give the other colours
Equal exposure
That’s the Ordinal Linguistic Personification
Raising its ugly head
Because of course
There’s jealousy between those days
It’s like my shoes
Some are friendly, some not so
I do try to be fair
And bend over backwards at times
To treat them equally
But Grey Boots will never redeem themselves now
Not since their first outing
When I went right off them
And couldn’t look as I took them off
Red Docs are a different matter
No side to them.

But I digress
Back to blue
That’s Monday and Friday
January, March, April and August
John, Michael, David and Sonny
All blue
Oh and the sea
And the sky, of course
But it might surprise you to know
That D and T - and a few more letters
Then handbag, photo, tube
Book and ruler
All share this wondrous hue
It’s never ending
This synaesthesia situation
Best go with it.

I’ll see you on the shiny orange triangle,
Get it on your calendar
The friendly Red Docs will bring me….

Thanks for reading……..Jill

7 comments:

Binty said...

It sounds like fun to me... green (?) with jealousy!

Bella Jane Barclay said...

Wow. That is such an interesting blog and a great poem.

Steve Rowland said...

Welcome back Jill. I absolutely loved this blog, an engaging and fascinating insight into what it's like to have synaesthesia. You're one in 2,000 apparently. And what a witty and delightful poem you've made of your experience. πŸ‘

Anonymous said...

Haha! Thank you 😊

Anonymous said...

Thanks so much! 😊

Anonymous said...

Thanks Steve, much appreciated 😊

terry quinn said...

What a fascinating article. I had heard of the word but having it described in such a colourful way makes some sort of sense.

Excellent poem as well.