#auditory-visual-synaesthesia

#auditory-visual-synaesthesia

"I can look at an object in the world around me, but I can also close my eyes and imagine the object," says Varun Wadia, highlighting the dual capability of visual perception and imagination.

Galen Buckwalter, a 69-year-old research psychologist and quadriplegic, participated in a brain implant study to contribute to science that aids those with paralysis. The six chips in his brain decode movement intention, allowing him to operate a computer and feel sensations in his fingers again.

The mosaic effect describes a situation where individual pieces of information are each permissible to access on their own, but when combined, reveal something more sensitive than any single piece would suggest.

The brain processes aesthetic experience like other rewards, such as food or money, indicating that the appreciation of beauty is deeply rooted in our neurological responses.

Our eyes—which we usually think of as purely visual organs—spontaneously dance to the rhythm of what we hear, says study co-author Du Yi, a cognitive neuroscientist at the Chinese Academy of Sciences in Beijing. Using a high-speed eye-tracking system, Du and her team were stunned to discover nonmusicians instinctively blinking in sync with the beat structure of Bach chorales.

For many of us, that compulsive need to touch isn't about poor impulse control. It's about confirmation. It's about making sure the world around us is real, solid, tangible - because somewhere along the line, we learned that the emotional landscape we navigated wasn't.

Wooden spoons as microphones, siblings spinning in socks across the floor, a mother laughing as Whitney Houston's "I Wanna Dance With Somebody" fills the room for the third time in a row-this is love. Long before children understand romance, they learn connection this way, through synchronized movement, shared joy, and the safety of familiar songs. Research on rhythm and social bonding suggests that moving in time together can regulate the nervous system and strengthen feelings of connection.

One scientist at MIT, Cyrus Clarke, is working to do just that. Alongside a team of fellow researchers, Clarke has developed a physical machine called the Anemoia Device, which uses a generative AI model to analyze an archival photograph, describe it in a short sentence, and, following the user's own inputs, convert that description into a unique fragrance. The word "anemoia" was coined by author John Koenig and included in his 2021 book, The Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows.

To view this video, please enable JavaScript and consider upgrading to a web browser that supports HTML5 video Media Summit and Experiential Marketing | Nov 8, 2022 Raja Rajamannar, Chief Marketing Officer of Mastercard (US), explores how the world of marketing is embracing more sensory and experiential approaches. And looks at what all marketers can learn from this broader approach.

If we told them to look at the face, they could usually manage it. But they were mostly looking at the hands. The Prakash children eventually learn to look at faces when spoken to - usually a few months after their surgeries. Their experiences reveal that seeing doesn't come naturally the moment a person is cured of blindness. Newly-sighted people must learn to see.

At a time when memories are increasingly flattened into folders, feeds, and cloud backups, a new experimental device from MIT Media Lab proposes a far more intimate archive: scent. Developed by Cyrus Clarke, the Anemoia Device is a speculative yet functional prototype that translates photographs into bespoke fragrances using generative AI, inviting users not to view memories, but to inhabit them through the body.

"Me and my girlfriend went on color hunting in Berlin this weekend," user Erikas Mališauskas shared on X. "We picked two random colors and had to make a 3×3 photo grid featuring that color. I got yellow, she got blue, here's the result." Commenters rallied together in agreement, saying how good of an idea this is.

Accomplishment Hallucination is a cognitive state in which speed feels like competence, output feels like accomplishment, and work feels done when the actual work-the thinking-through, the failure-mode analysis, the sitting with uncertainty until the problem reveals its structure-hasn't happened at all. Physics need not apply. AI can create a similar state in waking life—literally, as your very words assume form before your eyes like a conjuring sorcerer. But, like real life, the code may be buggier than we realize.

A few years ago, I climbed over a gate and found myself gazing down at a valley. After I'd been walking for a few minutes, looking at the fields and the sky, there was a shift in my perception. Everything around me became intensely real. The fields and the bushes and trees and the clouds seemed more vivid, more intricate and beautiful.

The sound stopped suddenly. I wanted to use my right foot to hit the drum twice, but I ended with the first try. At that instant, my brain really drew a blank. I thought, 'What's going on?' This was Yamaguchi's recollection of the first symptoms of musician's dystonia that appeared during a concert in 2009, marking the beginning of his five-year journey to diagnosis.

Real estate with ocean views, stunning mountain vistas, and wide-open green spaces sell at premium prices because humans find those settings pleasing [1-5]. Certain color combinations in fashion-such as brown and forest green-blend harmoniously, while others, such as hot pink and orange, clash. And our eyes like certain proportions in visual objects (like buildings and human faces) but not others.

Did someone with spatial-sequence synaesthesia design the calendar app on mobile phones? Because that's how time and dates look in my brain. If you say a date to me, that day appears in a grid diagram in my head, and it shows if that box is already imprinted with a holiday, event or someone's birthday. Public holidays and special events like Christmas and Easter are already imprinted for the year, and the diagram goes backwards to about 100,000BC

The scrape of a fork against a plate. The crunch of someone biting into an apple during a meeting. That wet, rhythmic sound of chewing with an open mouth. If reading these descriptions made you physically uncomfortable or even angry, you're not alone. And here's what might surprise you: that visceral reaction to everyday sounds could be a sign of a broader sensory sensitivity that shapes how you experience the entire world around you.

In 2011, researchers Jason Tangen, Sean Murphy, and Matthew Thompson at the University of Queensland discovered a striking visual illusion while preparing a set of face images for a study. As they were going quickly through the faces to check their spatial alignment, they started noticing that the faces appeared highly distorted, almost cartoonish. They then realized that these distortions were most pronounced when the faces were flashed about 4-5 times per second in peripheral vision.

There's a particular kind of panic that hits when you're facing a creative problem, and the well just feels... empty. Every idea seems stale. Every solution feels recycled. And the question creeps in: Have I finally used up all my good ideas? Maybe it's your third attempt at solving the same design problem, and every solution feels like a pale echo of something you've already tried. Or perhaps you've been churning out work for months, and suddenly the spark you used to rely on? Gone.

You know that song from 1987? The one you haven't heard in years? Start playing it right now and I bet you'll nail every word, every pause, every dramatic key change. Meanwhile, you're standing in front of your open refrigerator wondering if you already ate lunch today. This isn't just you being forgetful or having selective memory. There's actually fascinating psychology behind why your brain holds onto those old Backstreet Boys lyrics like precious gems while treating yesterday's breakfast like trash to be deleted.