Initially I think of a dessicated purple fish lying on a desert highway, but that’s just because my brain went for what I assume is not the version of “bass” you meant. If I try thinking about it in the intended sense, I see a highway through a purple filter, the purple getting stronger towards the edges of my vision. The image is wavering in time to thumping dubstep. An interesting image, even if it is irrelevant.
Arrgh, that is translation for you. I myself see a highway dipping slightly and then rising and somewhat hazy because of hot air. It’s just, have you ever felt that singleness of imagery as a combination of traits, that do not necessary include colour? Does not curved/straight line seem to add more meaning to some descriptions than it strictly should, for example?
Here some other (mangled) translations, hopefully showing what I mean (from the poetry of Ондо Линде):
tongue’s restive lightning
Speech is a stone shearing the river’s ripples, reflection running along rejections
cavernous between-the-lines
plaintains’ ballroom skirts
the votive candles’ slumber of little birds
etc. It seems to me that there is a perception of objects at rest, objects rushing by and objects caught in a moment of movement, weightless, that can occupy more attention than colour in a description. (Is this what you meant by qualia?)
Initially I think of a dessicated purple fish lying on a desert highway, but that’s just because my brain went for what I assume is not the version of “bass” you meant. If I try thinking about it in the intended sense, I see a highway through a purple filter, the purple getting stronger towards the edges of my vision. The image is wavering in time to thumping dubstep. An interesting image, even if it is irrelevant.
Arrgh, that is translation for you. I myself see a highway dipping slightly and then rising and somewhat hazy because of hot air. It’s just, have you ever felt that singleness of imagery as a combination of traits, that do not necessary include colour? Does not curved/straight line seem to add more meaning to some descriptions than it strictly should, for example? Here some other (mangled) translations, hopefully showing what I mean (from the poetry of Ондо Линде):
tongue’s restive lightning
Speech is a stone shearing the river’s ripples, reflection running along rejections
cavernous between-the-lines
plaintains’ ballroom skirts
the votive candles’ slumber of little birds
etc. It seems to me that there is a perception of objects at rest, objects rushing by and objects caught in a moment of movement, weightless, that can occupy more attention than colour in a description. (Is this what you meant by qualia?)