The World of “Aphantasia,” Where Visual Images Can’t Be Imagined

I have a brain trait called “Aphantasia,” where I cannot form visual images in my mind. I only learned about it recently. Until then, I never imagined that some people see things differently in their minds than I do. While this is based on my personal experience, I have come to accept my “Aphantasia” in a positive light, and I believe it is a strong ally for me. I would like to share a glimpse of the world I see, and if you’re interested, I’d love for you to experience it.

Isn’t it true that if you close your eyes, you can’t see anything?

Aphantasia refers to the inability to form mental images and visualize things in your mind.

When asked to “imagine a red apple,” can you form a visual image of it in your mind?

Most people can imagine the apple to some extent, ranging from 1 to 4 on a scale of vividness. But in my mind, it’s a 5—there’s nothing, not even an outline. It’s not that I don’t recognize the apple—I can still talk about its color, shape, taste, and variety. However, when I talk about it, there is no image of the apple in my mind.

The concept of “imagining something in your mind” is often used in art classes or psychological tests, but I always thought of it as a “metaphor.” After all, when you close your eyes, doesn’t everyone see nothing? But there are people who can actually visualize the apple in their minds. It was a tremendous shock to me to realize that not only do some people see images like this, but they also make up the majority.

Even though I can’t visualize things, I still know the details of the apple. So, I must be remembering it differently, through tags and other associations. I can’t quite put it into words, but for me, it feels more like a “presence” that’s integrated into my memory. In any case, I never imagined that not recognizing the world visually would be considered unusual.

I can’t visualize the face of someone I just met

For example, I can recognize someone’s face when I see it. If I look at an old photo, I can say, “This is Mr. X, and this is Ms. Y.” Whether it’s the person themselves or a photo, if I see their face, I can immediately identify them and remember them.

However, if someone just mentions the name of someone I met recently, I cannot visualize their face at all in my mind. I can describe their face with words, but it’s not as if I’m describing an image in my mind. Instead, I’m recalling other memories—tags, a “presence,” and the words themselves. There’s no actual face in my mind.

As I’ve written before, though I can’t visualize things, I remember them through other associations. I never felt troubled by my “Aphantasia” because I thought this was how everyone experienced things. It never seemed odd to me.

I can still draw

I can’t draw a realistic image from memory. I apologize for contradicting the heading, but I’ve always been bad at drawing. However, both Glen Keane, a Disney animator, and Edwin Catmull from Pixar have publicly stated that they have Aphantasia, yet they create stunning artwork. Their process is likely different from others.

As for me, I express things other than “visual” senses—such as sounds, smells, tastes, and emotions—through abstract paintings and photographs. Since I was a child, I’ve had a deep fascination with things that can’t be seen, the “shape” of what isn’t visible.

Even though I didn’t know the term “Aphantasia,” over the years, as I’ve lived with it, my interest in non-visual senses likely grew stronger. The sudden love for sound and the unexpected start of field recording was something I didn’t fully understand at the time, but once I discovered the concept of “Aphantasia,” it all made sense.

Perhaps because I don’t have specific visual images in my mind, I enjoy perceiving and expressing things that are abstract or sensed, rather than seen. In a way, being “Aphantasic” might be a gift and a strong ally for me.

Enjoying memories through sensation

When I told a friend that I had “Aphantasia,” they said, “For me, memories and words are like movies, they are replayed in my mind.” That is a sensation I can’t experience. I can remember the details of past experiences and stories, but I can’t relive them visually. Even with the most important people, if I can’t see them anymore, I can’t visualize their face in my mind.

This is why I feel that my memories are often based on other senses—physical or emotional sensations. It was hot, it smelled vibrant, it was delicious, it was soft. These are the sensory memories that come back to me in a form different from visuals. I continue to take photographs as a hobby, and now that I think about it, by capturing moments, I may have hoped that I could “see” the faces of loved ones I can no longer meet and keep them in my heart.

And when I think about how others might “see” me in their memories, that thought makes me happy too. “Aphantasia” is part of neurodiversity. There are people who think in images, and there are those who don’t. Knowing that I have “Aphantasia” has helped clarify the direction I want to take in life, and it has reminded me that people perceive the world differently.

I plan to continue living in harmony with my “Aphantasia.”