Hi, I’m Gera.
Colour shapes how we all experience the world, but for me, it’s more intense. I live with synaesthesia, a neurological condition I discovered by accident when watching a documentary. Until then, I hadn’t realised there was a name for the way I see things, or that not everyone saw the world this way.
My form is called grapheme–colour synaesthesia. In my mind, letters, numbers, names, and places all carry their own fixed colours, always the same. People do too: each has a distinct palette, almost like a visual fingerprint.
Take my husband, Alan. The letters A and N appear icy and deep blue, while L glows a soft yellow. When I hear or think of his name, those colours light up in my mind. Yet when I picture him, a different palette emerges: sunflower yellow, green-browns, soft whites, and hints of blue. It’s not logical. It just is.
My paintings grow from these colour impressions. I begin with a few hues tied to a person, a memory, or a phrase, and let the rest unfold. I work with a mix of brushes, fingers, and found objects, balancing traditional strokes with more intuitive, unconventional tools. Layering materials and textures mirrors how layered the experience feels in my mind.
The result is often bold, tactile, and full of movement. I hope each piece conveys something of that energy and curiosity, a glimpse into how I experience the world.
For me, synaesthesia is a companion. Sometimes the spark, sometimes the chaos, but always the joy behind the work…