Merriam Webster defines synesthesia as, "1 : a concomitant sensation especially : a subjective sensation or image of a sense (as of color) other than the one (as of sound) being stimulated. 2 : the condition marked by the experience of such sensations."
Often when I taste tastes, I get a sense of color. I see orange-reds particularly vividly. I'm not saying I hallucinate; I just am aware of the color being part of my experience. I tend to rarely mention this in cigar reviews and only fleetingly-so when I do. Sometimes a song or instrument enters my head when I taste tastes. Usually, Classical music because I'm super sophisticated and cultured. Being so intelligent, I recently got to thinking. 'I should take time to run with this,' was the thought.
& so I am, here. I'll be reviewing this Villiger La flor de Ynclan I have now in my hot little hands (actually, they're quite large and always quite cold) in such a manner as to ignore the senses of taste and smell in the interest of focusing on sight, feel, and hearing, all quite 'metaphorically'-so. Indirectly, say. Perhaps this will yield the truest way of relating a cigar experience. Perhaps it won't. The only guarantee I ever make is to try real hard until quitting seems the better option.
That said, what I've shared thus far rings as inadequate in terms of explanation. Perhaps that's because everyone, even guys like John Locke, has/have grappled with successfully defining synesthesia. Perhaps this additional attempt will serve to muddy-up the waters even further... there seems to be two noted types of this 'phenomenon.' The first is referred to as Projective. This exhibits as visualizing colors and shapes while an unrelated sense is being stimulated. The other, Associative, is experiencing a strong connection between stimuli and another seemingly uninvolved sense.
Yeah, I'm not sure either. I suppose the difference is between seeing and feeling, although in my personal experience there seems to be nary a delineation twixt. Let's just see what happens when I light this cigar, shall we? Before I head off to my humidor and return ready to additionally confound and/or confuse, Victor Hugo once said and/or wrote: "Tobacco is the plant that converts thoughts into dreams." Welcome to what just might be my quirky unconsciousness and my overt attempt at some semblance of albeit tenuous tangibility therein.
::: VILLIGER LA FLOR DE YNCLAN IN REVIEW :::
BINDER: Indonesian
FILLER: Nicaraguan, Dominican
FORMAT: Robusto
ORIGIN: ABAM, Dominican Republic
INTENSITY: Mauve star-shapes
NOTES:
Old attic | Bees | Hurdy-Gurdy
A vision of an emotional old attic, full of dusty boxes. Various canary yellow forms with vibrating notched edges. Those two things out-of-the-gate and for a bit. Then joined by buzzing bees and undertones of thin, bright vertical green lines. A hurdy-gurdy, all alone, and then joined by the bees. I feel a pinecone and faintly-so Vivaldi (Spring, Four Seasons). Up... an upward movement. The bees are suddenly quite tickly... fuzzier.
A trumpet blast just past the mid-point. Sadness, overcome.
Big, happy globular dollops of squishy citrine here and there, distinct from canary. Movement is as slow as it is upwards. BOOM: Spruce trees; the tops from on-high--a visual and a feel. I can't tell if Shostakovich is a memory from earlier today or a sarcastic aspect of this experiment. The thought of memory playing a role in synesthesia is cloyingly sweet.
I almost catch a lighter-than-air pale purple, I feel like I pushed it away with a forwardly rising hand typically accompanying, "Now hear me out."
TASTE: Yellow
DRAW: Octagonal
BURN: Violin
BUILD: Healing
FINAL GRADE: n/a
A 90-100 B 80-89 C 70-79
::: very :::