Neuroscience and perception are often reduced to what we see with the eyes, but perception begins much earlier and runs much deeper. The eyes may gather light, but it’s the brain and body that decide what it means. Even those with altered or limited vision still perceive the world richly through sound, sensation, memory, and emotional tone.
My earliest understanding of this came through the camera and my love for photography. I was fascinated by how the lens, aperture, and shutter mimicked the human eye, yet revealed new ways of seeing. I’d adjust the focus and realize the story wasn’t always in what was sharp. Sometimes the blur in the foreground said just as much, creating that cinematic depth I loved. It made me wonder: is that how the mind works, too? Always choosing where to place focus, what to soften, and what to let linger just outside the edges of awareness?
Over time, I noticed something else. The same place could feel completely different depending on my internal state. A cala I loved ten years ago in Ibiza felt strangely off when I returned yesterday and I thought, “What made this place so special to me before?” My childhood bedroom might appear warm or cold depending on how safe I felt inside myself. The environment hadn’t changed, but my perception had. I always say, you never arrive at the same place twice. Either you’ve changed, or the place has.
For artists and creatives, understanding how perception works is a kind of superpower. It sharpens attention, deepens presence, and opens the door to creating work that resonates. Because what we make begins with how we truly see.
Perception is the process by which the brain interprets sensory information to create an internal model of the world. It begins with signals from the senses ie, light hitting the retina, sound waves reaching the ear, tactile input from the skin, but those signals mean nothing on their own. The brain organizes, filters, and gives meaning to them based on context, memory, and experience. What we perceive is not a direct reflection of external reality, but a constructed interpretation shaped by what the brain has learned to expect.
Cognitive bias plays a big role here. These are mental shortcuts your brain uses to simplify the world, often without your awareness. For example, confirmation bias makes you notice what supports your existing beliefs. Attentional bias pulls your focus toward certain details while filtering out others. The availability heuristic is when your brain relies on the first example that comes to mind, often something recent or emotionally vivid. If you’ve just scrolled past a popular photo of a minimalist interior, you might start believing that simplicity is the most beautiful design approach, even if that’s not your true preference.
These patterns shape how we process visual input, often reinforcing what we expect to see instead of what’s actually there.
Neuroscientist Anil Seth describes this process as a “controlled hallucination” (Seth, 80000 Hours Podcast) – the brain making predictions and filling in the gaps based on what it already knows. This is called predictive processing. Your mind is constantly anticipating what comes next and adjusting your perception in real time.
That’s why two people can look at the same image and walk away with completely different interpretations. One sees beauty. Another sees discomfort. One registers a threat. The other sees potential.
Perception is the brain actively interpreting the world through everything it has already stored.
Your nervous system is the first filter of perception. Before your brain makes meaning, your body has already assessed: is this safe or not? That baseline state determines what you register and what you miss.
When your system is regulated, perception expands. You take in nuance, detail, and emotional tone. When dysregulated, perception contracts. Your focus tightens around urgency. Subtlety fades. You lose access to the beauty in what’s spacious or still.
This has direct impact on creative work. A calm system supports presence, risk-taking, and flow. An overstimulated one short-circuits your vision—literally and metaphorically. The system is overloaded… and so is your sensor.
This reminds me of a very interesting Tedx Nashville talk by Jeremy Cowart called “The Light We Let In.” He speaks to the importance of protecting our senses from constant exposure to stimuli that don’t nourish us.
If you’re a photographer, designer, or visual storyteller, cultivating a calm nervous system isn’t just self-care, it is a form of technical precision that unlocks your full creative range.
Perception deepens when the body feels safe. Harnassing this is a craft.
The visual field is everything you can see at one time, without moving your eyes or your head.
It includes:
It spans roughly 180–200° horizontally and 130–135° vertically, and your brain merges input from both eyes into a single, coherent image. But this field isn’t flat or uniform.
The center of your visual field where the fovea lives is packed with cone cells, allowing for sharp detail and rich color. The edges are more sensitive to motion and contrast, but less precise. Your brain doesn’t process all of this equally. It uses memory, emotion, and attention to decide what gets noticed and what fades into the background.
That’s where perception begins to take shape.
The amygdala tags emotional meaning. The hippocampus links new input to memory. The prefrontal cortex filters relevance. These regions collaborate with the visual cortex to determine what you register and how it feels.
Memory creates visual shortcuts. The brain fills in gaps based on pattern, habit, and prediction, which is a process deeply tied to cognitive bias. In photography and visual storytelling, this bias shows up in how we edit, crop, color-grade, or frame, often reinforcing what already feels emotionally resonant or familiar. Over time, these repeated choices become a kind of visual fingerprint. This is how personal style is formed.
This is also why imagery can be received so differently from one person to the next – triggering or soothing…The visual field carries emotional weight. Certain colors, shapes, or compositions evoke memory, which means sometimes safety, sometimes longing, sometimes grief, and why Instagram or TikTok can give us dopamine hits or make us feel terrible about ourselves.
Yes. Altered memory, emotional regulation, or attention fundamentally shift what is seen and how it’s interpreted. Someone on antidepressants might notice less emotional weight in imagery. A person recovering from trauma might unconsciously filter for safety cues. And a creative in a highly regulated state may perceive with greater nuance and subtlety than someone overstimulated or dysregulated.
The brain sorts, filters, and shapes what we notice based on memory, mood, and attention. This makes every visual experience deeply personal even when the subject is the same.
What we create reflects not only what was in front of us, but also how we experienced it.
Understanding the neuroscience of perception gives us more agency as creatives. That means greater awareness, more choice, and the ability to shape how we respond to what we see. In creative work, agency is the freedom to notice, interpret, and express with intention.
It allows us to:
This is about using the language of the brain to say what words cannot.
This also applies in branding and content design. A brand’s visual language holds influence. It shapes how someone feels. Subtle elements like spacing, contrast, pacing, and consistency shape perception before we’re aware of it.
I felt this while walking through the narrow alleys of Islamic Cairo. The rhythm of archways brought calm. The texture of carved doors, the pattern of shadow and light through the burning frankincense, and the tall minarets of the mosques – there was a subtle order to it all.
These were more than aesthetic details. My nervous system recognized the coherence. That’s the power of visual harmony as it reaches the body first.
The more you understand that perception is shaped by your body, your brain, and your history, the more freedom you have to shift it. Learn more about the potential of reframing in my original manifesto, Shifting Perspectives.
You don’t just see what’s there. You see what you’re ready to receive! This is where the allure of beauty lives, not as something imposed, but as something perceived. I explore this more deeply in my entry called, The Allure of Beauty.
And that, in itself, is a creative act.
If this resonated, join my newsletter for more reflections on perception, creativity, and the emotional language of beauty. You’ll also receive early access to workshops, offerings, and behind-the-scenes studio notes.
x
Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *
show comments
back to the post index
Next ENTRY
Previous ENTRY
keep reading
Leave a Reply