Tonight I had a religious experience. No, I was not at church, or in a yoga class. I was at a sushi restaurant. Oomasa, a Little Tokyo restaurant in downtown LA, has a sushi chef who is a true artist. I have had toro sushi in many places (including Japan), and I have never experienced toro the way I experienced it at Oomasa. Tonight I kissed the divine.
As I bit down I closed my eyes, and had no option but to be swept away by the sensation: the texture, the melting in my mouth, and the indescribable flavor….leaving my lips and tongue paralyzed in bliss. I’m not exaggerating, it was truly blissful. I wanted to cry, and I almost did.
I’m not easily moved in this way. I fact I can probably count on two hands the total number of times I have been veritably disarmed in my life time. Feeling this tonight, I am reflecting on those times when I have felt closest to God’s perfection: hearing the english horn solo in the second movement of the Symphony from the New World, performing the last movement of the Pines of Rome, finishing a Tolkien novel, feeling my first kiss, being laid waste by the beauty and torment of love.
There are no words to describe these kind of experiences. They transcend language. How can you describe an experience that literally re-calibrates one’s conception of the potential for beauty; an experience that literally makes you want to sing, dance, cry, or just do all of the above? This is music. I don’t mean notes and rhythms either. I mean the essence of what we all know is out there, and inside somewhere. We can feel it. We can taste it. It makes us vibrate. It makes us alive.
I confess, sometimes I forget why I’m an artist. Tonight, a piece of sushi helped me remember.