On the search for the right moment.
" You can recover from a disease not if you are not going through full-thickness " Marcel Proust.
I've read on the website of synesthesia interview with an imaginary synesthetes.
" What color is for you, the A?
For me it is blue. Why is it blue?" When I close my eyes and an A imagine, it's just blue. It can not be yellow. Blue fits easily on best.
What color is the word "aria" is?
This is also somewhat blue. The blue of A is very dominant. Towards the end of the word it is a little brighter.
What color is the present day?
He is yellow. Monday is always yellow. Except when I work in the evening must be the yellow is a little colored gray. The Yellow accompanied me all day Monday through it.
What kind of shape the year?
The Year? It is an oval. At the bottom is January, the top is August. August is a little longer than in May. For me that was somehow always has. It goes clockwise, I run in this year. Right now I'm just on the blue April. I think it was since my childhood Sun
When you hear music, what do you feel about this?
Well, that's very difficult to answer. I see different shapes and colors. But I can only describe very bad. Colored fog and figures I see when I hear the music focused. If I'm not fully concentrating, I'll take these colors hardly true.
Have you seen music as you do not already have known about synesthesia?
Actually, I've just never taken it and therefore never noticed that I hear the music differently, or see.
Can you imagine what it's like listening to music, but nothing to see here?
If I concentrate on the music, I always see something. I can not tell you what an der Musik der akustische und was der visuelle Aspekt ist. Es ist ineinander verflossen. Ich kann es mir auch überhaupt nicht vorstellen, dass das jemand nicht sehen kann.
Viele Leute können das nicht!
Ich kann das nicht verstehen, ich habe immer gedacht das sei normal und alle Leute haben farbige Buchstaben und Wochentage. Ich habe das nie als etwas Besonderes erachtet...
Wenn sie sich mit diesen Fragen identifizieren können, dann könnte es gut sein, dass Sie ein Synästhetiker sind. Machen sie doch den Synnietest!"
Als ich dieses Interview gelesen habe kam mir der Prousts Roman "Auf der suche nach der verlorenen Zeit" in dem Sinn. Der Proust war erfüllt von der Leidenschaft for art. After Proustian view is the art produced from life, and in every human being there is a level at which the life of artistic creation is. This creation, this knowledge is often inaccessible to the intellect.
Maybe we lived through all those childhood days at the most intense of which we thought we would have wasted no use: the fact that we spent reading a favorite book. The novel "On the looking .............." true for me as a reading. Today I know that we do not simply receive the wisdom of Sun We must discover it for ourselves in the course of a journey, take no one for us, or we can spare. Our body is full of slumbering memories that we may be out again with our senses experience. What we call reality is a certain relationship between emotions and memories that surround us at the same time.
Proust I learned my feelings to perceive and experience it. I always try to exempt a small piece of the paradise of my life. The time that I have available every day is elastic, and the passions that I feel inside me, stretching out my time, my habits and fill in the rest of the time. I want to see acutely aware that the rest of my time to get rid of by the customs.
"The best discoveries you do not do in foreign countries, but by looking at the world with new eyes. "writes Proust and I tried with my inner eyes of the world and me to look myself.
I wanted from his work for me and for my patients get more out. Marcel Proust lived in the time when body and soul were strictly separated, but he also lived in the time when Einstein made time the fourth dimension. In his novel "In search of ..." I have the open mind Proust made the said to me. "try to consciously experience your memories, they connect with the feelings in the moment of memory alive in you. "In Search of Lost Time" is a novel of memory. A distinction the author between voluntary memory, which is always incomplete and often frightening and involuntary memory. The most famous example of this is Madeleine (a small cake), to the adult Marcel is served by his mother and her taste him the fullness of his childhood experiences with all pictures, sounds, tastes and smells again wielded.
I close my eyes and try to see the ball room of my existence. It is not clear to my inner eye, it is covered with a dark network. This is the catchall for my feelings.
I am the prisoner of my own mind that without my feelings as an Toothless Tiger behaves. He certainly my perception and my limited knowledge of myself I open my eyes again and encounter the outside world. The world exists out there that is at least very likely. I see every object, the table, the chairs, my garden very clear, I smell the scent of the rose in my garden, hear the voice of my husband, feel the taste of coffee which I drink straight. But every object in the world, the table, the chairs, the garden, the smell and taste are at a table, the chairs, the garden, the smell and taste as soon as my five senses, the raw information from the outside world into signals have turned to my Gehirn verarbeiten kann. Erst durch diese Verarbeitung entsteht die Wahrnehmung der Wirklichkeit und so entsteht die Welt in meinem Kopf. Die Welt da draussen ist die Illusion meines Gehirns und Vermittler zur Entstehung dieser Illusion sind meiner fünf Sinne. Aber ich habe noch einen Sinn, der sechste Sinn, meine Eigenwahrnehmung. Diesen Sinn soll ich trainieren um aus dem Gefängnis meines Verstandes rass zu kommen. Ich sehe, höre, rieche, schmecke nicht mit meinen Augen, meinen Ohren, meiner Nase, meinem Mund sondern mit meinem Gehirn. Ich muss lernen mit meinem Gehirn auch meinen Köper und meine Bewegungen zu sehen, hören und riechen.
Prousts Gedanken folgend spüre ich in mir ein neues Gefühl aufkommen. Ich sehe den Tag in wunderschönen Shades of pink rotting paint, the letters of the book have actually become blue, the music I hear is a mix of pastel colors and fragrance, a rose. I see my body as a play is performed under the direction of the brain. The feelings, the movements and the simpler regulatory reactions occur at the stage of the body. The feelings are a natural means for the brain, the environment, to assess within and around the body as well as adequate and appropriate to respond. I'm thinking my thoughts and play on the stage of my body is a strange game. The idea is my feeling that materialized through the mediation of the brain in my body verwurzelt ist. Meine Gedanken haben Farben, Formen, Düfte und Geschmäcken bekommen. Ich sehe die Stellungen und Bewegungen meins Körpers in durchsichtiger Raumkugel meines Daseins als verschiedenen Geometrischen Figuren, die färbig und duftig sind. Mein Selbstsinn ist aufgewacht und ich kann ihm sehen und riechen. Ein angenehme Geschmack fühlt meinen Mund ich stelle fest dass das Geschmack einer grünen Apfel ist. Ich esse gern grünen Apfel und die Erinnerung auf diesen Geschmack ist in der Verbindung mit meinem Selbstsinn verschmolzen. Die Bewegungen meines Körpers tönen in meinen Ohren als Rauschen eine Symphonie des Meeres.
"Musik I"Acryl - 80x60 - 2000; Atelier Knorr-Small
This new feeling in me has grown out of my senses out of synesthesia.
The ball room of my life has suddenly become transparent and I see how my sense of self moves on the stage of my life.
Now I can try my headache shape, color and smell to give. I close my eyes again and see him with my "inner eye" as a dark room full of some unknown odor. I see, smell and suddenly hear my pain. He creaks in my inner ear as the rusty door hinge in his playing with the wind and cries like a wounded elephant. At that moment I heard a small voice:
"Here's my secret is simple:..! One sees clearly only with the heart of what is essential is invisible to the eyes"
The dark room of my perception was transformed into the image of a hat. I begin to dream.
If it's dangerous to dream a little, then the remedy, however, is not to dream less but more, yes all the time to dream. My head was mixed with the text of Proust text from the book "The Little Prince".
" In the second now, when he touched the cake taste mixed drink tea my palate, I jumped and was spellbound by something unusual, which took place in me. An unprecedented feeling of happiness that was completely on its own and whose base had remained unknown to me, flows through me. With one stroke me the vicissitudes of life were equally valid, its disasters innocuous mishaps, his soon become a mere illusion of our senses, and it took place so that in me, what else can love, while I felt filled with a delicious substance : or rather, this substance was not in me, but I was herself I had stopped, I write to feel mediocre, contingent, mortal "Marcel Proust
My memories on the read long time ago.. Book came to life. Proust has awakened the little prince in me and he showed me that my pain is not a hat, but a giant snake that has swallowed an elephant, representing. With my inner eyes I see the images from the book.
The hat transforms itself into my skull and I see the elephant of my really long time hidden feeling pain.
The sensation of pain is not the cause of the pain and not a necessary condition for its occurrence. I feel pain in my head.
This is the migraine, the guardian of my dreams. Which is in my life has a meaning, a very personal meaning. Wen ich diese Bedeutung erkenne dann kann ich die Ursache des Schmerzes besiegen. Manchmal blitzt es in meinem Kopf und ich habe Angst weil ich weiss dass danach die Kopfschmerzen kommen. Jetzt sehe ich diesen Schmerz als meine Empfindung ich sehe ihm auf mich zu kommen.
Die Hildegard von Bingen war eine Visionärin, aber ich glaube dass sie eine Synästhetin war. Sie hat unter die Migräne gelitten und sie hat darüber in ihren Büchern geschrieben.
"Das Licht also, das ich schaue, ist nicht räumlich, sondern viel, viel heller als die Wolke, die die Sonne trägt. ... Und was ich schreibe, schaue und höre ich in der Vision. Und ich schreibe keine anderen Worte nieder als die, die ich höre, denn man lehrt mich in dieser Vision does not write as how to write the philosophers. And the words in this vision are not the words that resound in the mouth of man, but like a bright flame or a cloud that marches in the clear sky. ... In this light, I watch sometimes - but not often - a different light than I was - has called "Lux vivens living light". And I can not put into words, when and how I look, but when I look, all the sadness and fear is all taken from me, so then I feel like such a simple girl and not like an old woman "(. The 77 year old Hildegard in a letter to the monk Guibert of Gembloux, who later Secretary).
I must try to see the cause of my migraines and understand their importance in my life to.
held to the light ball of my life I still see a dark spot in the universe and begin my Vernumpftes my mind shine like stars in the night sky. That are my ideas which I want to show the way to solve my problem. The dark matter of my existence conceals a dark, my unknowns energy. My thinking universe is spreading, the ideas are illuminated, but the dark matter is also larger. In my head, knocking, drilling, burns and stings. That is the dark energy, the pain of a stranger who does not come into my life. The good-natured Elephant from my childhood dreams left my presence and I see no face an apocalyptic horsemen racing through my head. Migraine has many forms but never a face. She comes out of the dark matter and disappears there.
A star in my thinking universe shines brighter and stronger. Comes up to me and I recognize the shape of the Kairos, the god of the happy moment.
"The opportunity to grab the hands" sounds to my ears.
I stretch my right arm around the neck of the god to pack and it came like a flash, I felt the cause of my migraines. The whole spine began to move, the back and my neck muscles began to ache.
I note that the dark spot is my perception of my spine, which I see as a two-dimensional image of an immovable rod, instead they perceive as an earthworm in movement in a three-dimensional space can. The Synästetiker can transform into each other's feelings, I think, trying to train my perception.
In my mind I am standing on the sandy beach of the sea. I imagine my spine as an earthworm front that moves across the sand of my back. The smoke of the sea sounds in my ears and suddenly I can smell the sea. The dark room the smell was completely unknown to me, has morphed into the new image. The blue of the sea mixes with the sunset and the space appears Pastelnüancen the sunset. The spine I now see as a fish and feel like I come alive in the movement of my spine. It moves in the rhythm of my innate spiral dynamics. I walk slowly through the sand and feel the pleasant feeling of my life. I note that my spine is flexible and that it has opened up the joints with every step and turn. My head floats on my neck and I feel at every step to be larger. The pain I felt is gone, the dark spot of my body image, the distorted space, without harmony is becoming smaller.
I continued to walk and notice that in the transparent sphere of my existence, the harmony of movement was restored.
Anne Knorr-Small - Pastel (perceived associative synesthesia) (after "Sounds of Silence" ) HW Knorr
radio play Now I hear the symphony of my movements, the pain in my brain has a three-dimensional shape who get to me greifbar geworden ist. Ich habe gelernt mit dem Körperschmerz umzugehen und die Ursache für meine Migräne entdeckt und ihre Bedeutung in meinem Leben verstanden. Sie war die Wächterin meiner kindlichen Bewegungsspontaneität und zu gleich die Wächterin meiner Zeit.
Marcel Proust lebte in der Zeit als der Körper und die Seele noch streng getrennt waren, aber er lebte auch in der Zeit als Einstein die Zeit zur vierte Dimenzion machte. In seinem Roman "Auf der suche..." habe ich die Prousts offene Seele geftrofen die zu mir sagte:
" Du darfst nicht in der Zeit leben, wiel "deine Zeit", dass bist du. Jeder bewusst erlebter Augenblick ist der richtige Augenblick deines Daseins. Versuche deine Zeit und bust your memories aware, take your feelings at the moment you wake up in the memory is true and then the memories of "your time", your real moment that you own. Every Next moment is full of memories of past "
I searched and found the doors of my time
http://die-tore-der-zeit.blogspot.com
Sources:..
Marcel Proust "In Search of Lost Time"
soundscapes-Synäthesie
www.atelier-knorr-kleine.de/klangbilder.htm - 35k -
http://www.atelier-knorr-kleine. de /
