It’s been an intriguing few weeks.
At BlogWorldExpo in Las Vegas, I found myself being introduced in the following manner: I’d like you to meet Jennifer. She does “Sex on a Plate.” To my pleasant surprise, many people already knew about it — or wanted to. Marsha Collier and I talked about it on her radio show for KTRB in San Francisco, and 4 million more people were let in on the secret. I loved that.
I then spent a few days with Kelly Cline, the early inspiration for turning my blog into something more. I am drawn to her food photography like a bee to honey, as she is the only person on earth who can see inside my mind and bring my thoughts to visual, four-color reality. We’ve had a magnificent five years of collaboration, and I’m coming away from my time with her newly inspired. It also turns out she takes more than good food photos…but more on that another time.
Kelly and I breathe a tandem rhythm of sensual stimulation, but we don’t want to be the only two in on the melody — and it looks like many of you feel the same way.
On Facebook, in e-mail and at events, people are asking me what it all means. So what kind of food should I eat? What dish gets you really hot? But that, my friends, is the result, not the cause. Let me explain a bit.
On Food Philosophy #87 I talked about experiencing Zumanity, the Sensual Side of Cirque du Soleil. I’m eternally grateful to Jess Berlin for offering me a ticket, because seeing the show brought all my recent thoughts together in a flash of inspiration. Zumanity artfully and powerfully evokes the sensual desires in our minds — even the ones we hide in the light of day — and strikes a chord so deep it’s impossible to leave the theater without an overwhelming need to satiate them. Whether we shiver at the sight of light blue silk rippling in the breeze, or feel a rush of desire at the crack of a whip, something in that show triggers our senses until the hunger in the room is palpable. Every body shape, every sexual preference — every fantasy — is captured on stage, drenched in perfect lighting and pulsating rhythms.
I found myself in such a heightened state of sensory indulgence, I actually purred. Out loud.
After walking out of the theater I realized that if the world could step inside my head in that moment, they would get the idea of Sex on a Plate at its core. It’s not the food, you see, though that is a magnificent component of the satiety; it is what I’ve awakened inside that enables me to feel that kind of passionate arousal in such a moment, and see the world exploding with color and texture all around me. Imagine feeling like that on a regular basis. Oh yes.
The good news is that I’m not an anomaly — I’ve worked to get my senses to this place, but there are lots of you out there, even if you don’t know it yet. I’ve discovered that some of you took my tips to heart in getting started, and are beginning to see food in a whole different way. That excites me. Some of you have taken the tips into the bedroom. That excites me more.
If you haven’t yet started on the road toward Eden, I’m putting out a personal challenge to you, because it’s no fun here with just a few of us: Do something today to satiate your senses. Take a few extra seconds when you nibble that bite of chocolate, and feel its silkiness as it melts on your tongue. Run a finger down your lover’s spine. Drink in a moment of beauty, whether it’s a perfect flower or an exquisite woman.
Do this and you will soon be rewarded in the Garden, because things are in motion to bring Sex on a Plate to life, off the digitized page and right in front of you. Do you want your senses to be tickled? Titillated?
If the answer is yes — and I hope it is — I’ll need you to prepare.
Top photo: Kelly Cline
Bottom photo: Cirque du Soleil