The most recommended books on perception

Exploring how and why Romans built their houses to impact all bodily senses sits at the heart of my book.

Whilst interest in planning and building for such full body experiences in architecture today has declined, Pallasmaa’s The Eyes of the Skin presents a compelling argument for the importance of understanding the role of the multiple bodily senses in our experience of built spaces around us.

Divided into two main sections, the first of these examines the pre-eminence of sight in the West and its detrimental impact on architectural practise and our built environs.

The second part considers the role played our other bodily senses in experiencing architecture and proposes a new approach to building design and construction which seeks to integrate full sensory experience into the architectural process.

I know I was a few years late getting to this one, and that’s on me, as it was in my TBR pile since the day it was released. I found the book intensely captivating. It drew me in from the very first page, and from there, it’s a rollicking, non-stop thrill ride to the end.

Combine that with the very realistic depictions of the Institute itself, which you can almost believe is a real place.

King has always been great at bringing his characters to life, and this book is no exception. It is classic King, and I would recommend it to any fan of horror or supernatural thrillers.

The book is summarized by the words of Socrates:

“Let him who would move the world first move himself.”

This is the first book written by another fabulous Greek my late friend Eleni Sarantinou, with whom I co-authored another book on NLP. I was privileged to review a draft of her book before publication and couldn’t wait to get a hard copy and read it all again. It is a fabulous book packed with Eleni’s practical wisdom for those who want to lead others, and themselves of course, through change to success.

Eleni brings into our conscious awareness the importance as a leader and as a person to know our impact and to recognise the limitations our perceptions may place on us. She emphasises the importance of curiosity, self-reflection, and being connected to our emotions, as well as giving and receiving feedback that feeds the soul and spurs the receiver… show more.

Born in Los Angeles and with profound connection to this city’s psyche, Wendy Ortiz delivers a map of Los Angeles transformed into words, a fragmented memoir of hurt, love, loss, and reinvention. What does a young writer (one of thousands) living in this city and trying to make it worry about? Joblessness. Rent. Bills. Riding the metro. Alcohol. And yes, sex and publishing too, of course. This book proves that it’s not always 72 and sunny in Los Angeles.

I love this book because it tackles big questions on the female front—including those young girls have about religion: Why is Eve blamed for everything? Why is God always portrayed as a man?

Main character Agnes itches with questions. But girls aren’t supposed to question authority. As she thinks more and more about the deep things, Agnes wrestles when her own opinions and finds her courage to challenge the status quo—as every girl needs to do!

Are philosophers like detectives, in that they chase their culprit over any terrain, and follow any clue? What can count as a clue?

Given the right context, pretty much anything, a pencil placed here rather than there, a picture of a car, something someone said, a fingerprint. Or are we more like technicians, like the fingerprint expert who only lifts and analyzes prints? The problem with being the fingerprint expert is that it can completely remove philosophers from their originating problems and turn them into mere technicians.

Ned Block is a detective, who has followed clues about the nature of consciousness deep into psychology and neuroscience. Here Block argues that there is a genuine distinction between seeing and thinking, and draws out the consequences of that for our theories of consciousness.

This brief tale offers a profound exploration of an artist's inner journey. It delves into the insecurities and fears that often haunt creative minds.

The protagonist's quest for inspiration, intertwined with a surprising twist involving her beloved poet, adds captivating layers to the narrative. It elegantly portrays the elusive essence of art, where the artist's intent can diverge from the audience's perception.

As an artist, I found it deeply relatable—a poignant reminder of the intricate dynamics within our creative pursuits. This narrative is a valuable gift to fellow artists, beautifully articulating the pursuit of visibility and the complex interplay between creator and audience.

I had seen the 1937 film adaptation as a child yet never read the book. Picking it up in 2023, I was struck by a subtle theme that I would have completely missed at an earlier age.

The characters, and therefore the author, are aware that a second great war might lie ahead, and some would escape. The longing for a place of refuge where they would scarcely age, free from the stresses of our modern world, made even more sense in the 1930s. Hilton’s characters embody the fear that another, even darker time is on the horizon. In that sense, they are lost, not simply in the Himalayas, but in their inability to escape from a looming calamity.

It made me wonder if the many apocalyptic books and shows of our present time reflect a comparable collective fear that something darker lies ahead of us.

While not a book explicitly about creativity, it opened my eyes to how our brains work, how we can make them work better, and what we’re just going to have to live with. For instance, “multi-tasking” is really a myth—some brains just switch from one task to another faster and women are better at that than men, something rooted in our evolutionary development. And our brains are hardwired for movement, particularly walking. Developmental neurobiologist Medina offers plenty of food for creative brains.

Judith Arnopp has written many excellent and well-researched books about the kings and queens of Medieval and early Tudor England, but I particularly like the ones that deal with ordinary people caught up in events, rather than the movers and shakers. This one deals with a group of nuns struggling to deal with the confusion, distress, and violence of Henry VIII’s dissolution of the monasteries and the Pilgrimage of Grace.