I am a bi-directional synesthete who experiences multiple forms of synesthesia. I photograph reflections on moving water and click the shutter at the moment I experience a texture or sound response. For that reason, a researcher asked for my input on his invention to convert images of one's surroundings into sound to help blind people see.

I sent him photographs of sounds which I selected from the thousands of photos I have taken in the last twenty years that document my synesthetic responses. However, he explained that as no two synesthetes perceive the same way, my images were most likely not universal enough to be useful for his purposes. But that planted an idea in me. Were there any universals? I sorted my images into two piles, putting the sound pile in front of me, shoving the texture pile to the side because I didn't expect to use it. Suddenly, I heard the sound of chimes, only it was coming from the wrong place: peripherally seen, the top image of the texture pile was eliciting the chime sound. When this happened a second time, I found my eureka moment.

To test my hunch of universality, I began an experiment in which I asked non-synesthetes to match sounds to the images I presented. No one had difficulty matching the image to the chime sound. So, now I am considering: first, could my two senses have traded places in the layers of conscious awareness; and second, am I more likely to find universal shapes for sound amid my texture images where they may be hidden even from me; and third, do these images elicit similar responses in both synesthetes and non-synesthetes alike. I wish to share the results of similar experiments at the conference in the hope of learning more about the language of synesthesia.

A Dream: I am sitting at a semi-circular desk wrapped around my waist snug as a baby’s highchair. The desk is like any desk except for where it is: the middle of the ocean. I am dry as a landlocked scribe from the waist up, but from the waist down, my body is submerged. My chair is actually a bicycle, my feet touching pedals underwater. I discover a button on my computer that catapults me into live music without my having to get up from the chair, or bike, or out of the water. I am a female centaur, hooves replaced by aquatic wheels - half rider, half writer – which is why in waking life (I think later), when I mean to type “write” I see “ride” appear on my computer screen, as though my fingers think in homonyms and take dictation from voices I can’t hear.

This dream provides the perfect metaphor for how synesthesia feels, although in waking life, I have no magic button to initiate the experience. I look to Nature instead, specifically reflections on water where light, at certain times of day, sends me into multiple modalities. I experience sound, texture, and motion but never voluntarily, so I put myself in the vicinity of where I know it might occur. My images elicit the same synesthetic responses every time I see them. By sharing them, I hope to transform Nature’s mirror into a useful window for us all.