Kamolnate Trisupatsilp hears every sound as a colour. When she wakes up, an air conditioner's noise hums a grey fog. A pastel songbird laps gently in the corner of her visual field. When she drinks water, she can't help but see purple, orange and other hues ripple. When she walks to the bathroom and begins her daily routine, she experiences a kind of visual feast that can't be put into words. It goes on and on all day.
Reconcile Between Me And Another Me. (Photo: Thana Boonlert)
"Before I fall asleep, I still hear some distant sounds. Hence, the backs of my eyelids are never dark but full of dazzling colours," she said.
Her typical day is like a kaleidoscope. Almost 50 palettes. Typing on a computer keyboard or tasting an ice cream can cause her to see colours. For others, however, sensory perception is compartmentalised. A dog's bark is just heard. A bowl of salad is just eaten. Kamolnate perceives a different world because of an unusual neurological condition called synaesthesia. A person with this can experience sensory fusion.
"When I was young, I didn't know what it was. I was told to keep it secret to be normal, but it was very difficult. How can I escape from it? I see it all the time," she said.
In their book Wednesday Is Indigo Blue, Richard Cytowic and David Eagleman shed light on multisensory experiences. Etymologically, "synaesthesia" is a combination of "syn" (union) and "aisthaesis" (sensation). A synaesthete perceives sensations like sound and sight simultaneously. A common type of synaesthesia is coloured hearing, but there are many other variations.
Kamolnate Trisupatsilp with her painting The Arrival Of Spring. (Photo: Thana Boonlert)
Kamolnate was an interior designer, who enjoyed working on stage plays and boutique hotels because she felt they were a kind of art installation. In 2022, she displayed paintings and published a picture book for the first time. It recounts the story of a synaesthete who can come to terms with herself, which became the central theme of her new exhibition titled "No Matter How Different You Feel You Are, Embrace It", now on view at 6060 Arts Space until Friday. Kamolnate has now turned to fantasy novels and paintings.
Her works show how seeing the world differently provoked loneliness and alienation. Painted in black and white, most of them convey sadness and longing for being understood. A Big Elephant In The Room (2023) depicts a forlorn figure in the face of a black void. I Knew There Was Something Wrong, Hence I Tried To Run Away (2023) portrays her flight from a blizzard. Some of them, however, have a sense of hope, for example Looking Out, Tried To See The Light (2023).
"I look back to my life before I know what synaesthesia was. At the time, I thought it was my imagination. It made me feel I was insane. I tried to erase it, but it just popped up all the time. My family forbade me from speaking. I didn't know there were so many people with synaesthesia," she said.
For a long time, synaesthesia was dismissed as a figment of the imagination. Many scientists argue that synaesthetes recall childhood associations from toys. Counter-evidence, however, comes from brain scanning, which shows that its pattern during synaesthetic experience differs from the result detected when a subject envisions it. Rather, it closely corresponds to actual perception.
Kamolnate is not alone in perceiving the world this way. There are many artists who are really synaesthetic. For example, Vladimir Nabokov, the novelist, saw the alphabet in colour. As a toddler, he told his mother, a synaesthete herself, that colours on alphabet blocks were wrong. Others include composers Olivier Messiaen and Amy Beach, and painters David Hockney and Wassily Kandinsky.
In this collection, alcoholic drinks cause Kamolnate to see colours. (Photo: Thana Boonlert)
Going upstairs, a collection of sketches of hand-drawn characters provides insights into Kamolnate's self-exploration. In A Conversation With Myself (2009), a woman looks out the window as if she is making up her mind about whether to go out. My Messy Brain (2010) depicts monster eyes inside her head. In Doubt (2010), she appears to hang from the ceiling as if someone is pulling her strings. Kamolnate attributed her condition to a brain tumour.
"While I was studying in the Netherlands, I found that I am dyslexic because I couldn't read and spell locations on signposts in Dutch. I remember words in blocks. Once, I cried when buying a train ticket. I typed on a keyboard and found the letters were arranged in an unfamiliar alphabetical order. I wasn't good at English. Because people used difficult words, I ended up doodling in class," Kamolnate said.
It is on the upper floor where her epiphany unleashes the creative power of synaesthesia. While studying abroad, she and her friends gathered regularly on Sundays. After the meal, their conversation went on and on until it turned to the nature of human perception, which Kamolnate was not into.
For example, they discussed how many apples were on the table and whether they were red. Even if they were red, did they perceive it the same way? When she met a neurology student, she happened to ask him about her condition.
"It is synaesthesia," he replied straight-faced, "many people experience it."
"I have since realised that I'm not crazy, but simply different," Kamolnate said. "In light of this event, I turned things into colours I saw when I pronounced their names."
There are many types of synaesthesia and eating also causes Kamolnate to see colours. For her collection, she tasted alcoholic drinks and captured their fleeting hues. In the past, she could not mix colours fast enough. But with the benefit of an iPad, she managed to catch them. For example, her tasting of Tokaji Aszú, Hungary's most famous wine, is followed by a soft pastel palette.
On the top floor, visitors can experience Kamolnate's new season. In The Arrival Of Spring (2010), she contrasts a dark winter with a vivid bloom. Reconcile Between Me And Another Me (2023) depicts her two opposite selves in dark and white walking hand in hand through the forest. Embrace and No Longer Pushing It Away (2023) show characters putting their hands around colours in an act of self-affirmation.
"In the past, I couldn't accept who I am. I felt my drawing wasn't good enough. But now, I am okay with myself. It isn't that bad," she said. "I am at the point where I no longer feel that I have to prove [synaesthesia]. I just see it. It is the way I am. It is my own chemistry."
"No Matter How Different You Feel You Are, Embrace It" is on display at 6060 Arts Space until Friday. Visit facebook.com/6060artsspace.
Chaos In My Head. (Photo: Thana Boonlert)
Top floor of the exhibition. (Photo: Thana Boonlert)
