It was only after about half a century of human interaction, that I realised people’s internal experiences can significantly vary. An article discussing hyperphantasia piqued my interest, a phenomenon which refers to the ability to visualise scenes or experiences not presently happening. It lies at the opposite end of aphantasia, the inability to visualise mentally. The author mentioned how some hyperphantasics can imagine not only the image of an apple, but also its weight in their palm.
This left me bewildered yet enlightened: I understood then that I too, was a stunningly vivid imaginer. Whenever I thought of an apple, a specific apple materialises in my mind. I perceive not only its weight, but also its texture: how the cool, smooth Granny Smith contrasts with the rough, grainy russet. I can taste the crunch of a fresh apple, feel the softness of a ripe one. My mind can transport me to blooming apple orchards, guide me through the delicate process of baking an apple spiced with cinnamon, and invite me to taste the sweet, wine-like notes of caramelised raisins.
One woman quoted in the article confided that her mind’s projection was as vivid as a motion picture. I find this comparison limiting. My mental imagery is even more vibrant because it transcends the audiovisual. For instance, if asked to imagine a lake, I visualise its surroundings, its borders dotted with fields and hills, edges festooned with reeds, and an array of rocks and birds. But my perception expands to physical sensations and scents. I can feel the wind playfully tugging at my hair, the warm sun on my shoulder, and the crumb-like texture of the rippling waters, mimicking a chocolate-coated biscuit. Such expansive sensory experiences are impossible to replicate in a cinema.
As a novelist for the last 15 years, and a storyteller for longer, it’s my job to construct fantasies, to navigate unexplored terrains as non-existent characters. It involves not just understanding their social, economic, and historical contexts, but also empathising with their physical experiences – holding the steering wheel, cradling a child, or tasting their meals, hearing the symphony of nature and city around them. My task is to render these experiences into well-crafted sentences – but this writing part comes secondary to the internal exploration. Until not too long ago, I believed everyone possessed such intricate universes brimming with light, sound, taste, touch, and aroma in their minds, just as I did. – Sarah Moss
The issue isn’t just my personal inclinations towards sourdough and kale, nutritious food should be a fundamental privilege for all. Sarah Moss expresses her distaste for the term ‘first world problems.’ Despite feeling guilty about frequent air travel, she perpetuates the habit. Her writing process often involves recalling and fabricating narratives based on her existing knowledge; for instance, while she hasn’t experienced a building on fire, she can imagine the terror and urgency based on her knowledge of fire’s characteristics and how buildings collapse.
Until recently, Moss had thought that everyone possesses boundless sensory experiences in their minds involving sight, sound, smell, taste and touch. She’s discovered that some characters she’s created have minds that are not as dynamic as hers. Moreover, she has come to terms with the overpowering mental presence of her ‘demons and ghosts,’ which she regards as tangible as sunny lakes or blooming apple trees.
She began to question her friends and family about their mental experiences. Her enquiries yielded a range of answers; it was unsurprising that more often ‘hyperfantasia’ was common amongst her artistic and theatrical friends. While most people engage their senses continuously, living in alternate realities in their minds during the day and night, some people admitted they can only visualise or hear in their imaginations and some even claimed to lack that ability. Everyone, except for the psychologist, was stunned to discover the sensory disparities that exist in people’s cognitive function.
Moss reflected on how much we don’t know about each other and how our individual conscious experiences vary profoundly.