I was the weird kid, my mother had a strange Colorado dog ranch. I didn't get invited to slumber parties because my clothes smelled of cat pee. I went to college at 15 years old and met my boyfriend who read my surreal sensory based poetry and asked me, “Are you synesthetic?” It was the first time I had heard the term.
I remember learning numbers, letters and words by the colors and other sensations they evoked in my mind - the radiant fluffy gold of the letter 'W,' in contrast to the paler, more elusive lemony yellow of the letter 'L,' the cool hard-but-not-rigid blue of the number 2. I wasn't one of those kids who could draw. I remember getting frustrated one day and just drawing a dog the way I thought it ought to be drawn, with no outlines, just the merging boundaries of lines of color indicating movement and direction. Then puberty hit and I started experimenting with nudes.

For the first time flecked and layered with blue and red and green within the flesh colors the skin looked more real to me.

vera@veratoon.com