How to Think (and Write) Like Leonardo da Vinci, Part III: Sensazione

Photo by Ray Hennessy on Unsplash

Try this:

Where are you right now? 

What do you see around you?

What can you hear?

What can you smell?

Is there any taste in your mouth?

What do you feel in your body? (the seat below you, the floor, the air wafting by…)

Our sense organs are amazing things. They work automatically (unless we’re missing one, then others may compensate). We can focus on them, or not focus on them. In fact, most of the time we’re not fully focused on what’s coming in through the senses. Our brains filter that out as extraneous information, unless we need it (try smelling smoke suddenly - it has a way of focusing our attention immediately!). 

What senses do you rely on the most? Which are less sensitive? 

What about in your writing? 

Some writers simply describe the scene as though they’re watching a movie. This is normal, especially since we all have grown up immersed in screens. We’re used to sight being the main focus, so to speak. 

But we can’t forget all the other senses. Not every scene, of course, requires a description from all five senses. You will want to think about what senses are relevant for that particular scene. For example, I realized I’d written a scene set in a bakery, and never once mentioned any aromas. And when my character tasted something, it needed to be about more than just taste, but also texture: nutty, crumbly, silky smooth, rich… 

I’ve read some client work that seems to take place in a vacuum. Two talking heads in blank space. Where are they exactly? What is in the space with them? Is it a single room with no other people, but possibly a table and chairs? Any flowers or decoration? Are they eating or drinking?

Are they outside? What is the temperature? Do they hear birds, insects, wind? Do they smell grass? Dead fish from the nearby polluted river?   

Are there other people around, whether the characters are inside or outside? If they are indoors and it’s a busy space (a mall, an office, a throne room) we should at least see that there are other people, even if the characters don’t interact with them. 

In other words, we need to see that the characters exist in a fully-realized world. 

Honing your senses - Sensazione - can be a wonderful writing exercise. Try to describe the following - without relying on cliches!: 

• A sunrise or sunset.

• A piece of art.

• The sound of an instrument that is unfamiliar to you - go on YouTube and look up videos of traditional instruments in different cultures

• Try a new-to-you food and describe it - or take something you love and try to describe it (a chocolate-chip cookie, for example - really break it down into the different tastes and textures). 

• Think of a smell you love, and a smell you hate. Describe them.

• Think of an experience that has many sensual components: swimming at the beach or skiing down a mountain, say. Describe it in detail. What about something you have never experienced personally? How would you learn what you need to learn to describe it accurately? If you’re writing a novel, you may have to consult with an expert to get those details. 

If you’re writing a historical novel, you may not have an expert who would know those sensual details, but research as best you can. If you are writing about walking down a street in ancient Egypt, for example, your character might smell beer brewing, bread baking, the odor of the nearby Nile, incense from the temples, dung from dogs or cattle. He might feel the punishing heat of the sun, sweat dripping down his back. Is there a breeze? There will be people of all kinds in the dusty street - priests in robes, workers in loincloths, scented ladies in litters with long black wigs. Is he hurrying? Or sauntering along? 

Of course, you need to combine this with interiority: experiencing the scene through that particular character’s eyes. How much you describe will depend on how close-in you are. In first person, it will only be immediately relevant things. As I said before, we tend to pay attention to only the senses that grab our attention. 

In close third, you will still need to stay with the immediate experience of the character. In a more distant or omniscient third, you can “pan out” more to set the scene - but beware; modern readers do not like long descriptive passages, especially of things they are already familiar with (a generic city street, for example). If you are creating a sci-fi or fantasy world, you can spend more time describing, since it will truly help the reader to visualize what is going on in an unfamiliar environment.

Whatever they are experiencing through their senses, let it come from their particular point of view. Does a smell or sound remind them of a memory, good or bad? Do they hate the humidity, or revel in it? Are their fingers and toes going numb from the cold? How they experience their world can also be affected by their mood: if they’re grieving, even a sunny day will seem dim and colorless. If they’re in love, everything will seem bright. Even if they live in a slum, they will be full of hope and energy for the future. Of course, it wouldn’t be a story if it all went according to plan… 

The principle of Sensazione also applies to your writing space. Do you prefer it simple, uncluttered, and work-oriented? Or do you like to have art or special objects around you? Fresh flowers? Candles? Music playing, or silence? Any drinks or snacks? Is your chair comfortable? Are there any adjustments you could make to enhance your creativity, or even your desire to enter the space?

Is there anything you can add that might evoke your story? A collage of relevant words and images? A particular scent, or type of music, or photograph? Consciously setting our external scene in this way can help us enter - and stay in - the story world.  

Leonardo da Vinci delighted in the senses, and paid attention very deeply to everything around him. His notebooks are full of his observations and drawings of the natural world, which in turn inspired his painting and engineering. He didn’t take the senses for granted. Here is his description of the sunset, taken from How to Think Like Leonardo da Vinci, p. 106:

“At the first hour of the day the atmosphere in the south near to the horizon has a dim haze of rose flushed clouds.; toward the west it grows darker, and toward the east the damp vapor of the horizon shows brighter than the actual horizon itself, and the white of the houses in the east is scarcely to be discerned; while in the south, the further distant they are, the more they assume a dark rose flushed hue, and even more so in the west; and with the shadows it is the contrary, for these disappear before the white houses.”  

Whew. Now that is seeing deeply. How can you pay better attention to the sensual world around you, to give it new life and meaning on the page? 

If you like this, head on over to the Contact Page and sign up to get my monthly newsletter featuring tips on creativity, productivity, and the writer’s craft.