Daily Musings – Tao for $7.00

Japanese Garden, photo by me!

(All of the photos taken by me–I have more to share, too! You’ll see them here and there).

I had the best day I’ve ever had here in Albuquerque last Thursday. Yep. For real.

The kind of simple, radiant, refreshing day that comes once in a while, when everything falls into place and flows naturally. Autumn clarity. Natural zen. This is Tao.

On a whim, Ken suggested we go to the Albuquerque Botanical Gardens and Aquarium. It’s not a huge place. Maybe the best in the state, but certainly not the best in the country. We’ve been to the Monterey Bay Aquarium, one of the best in the world, so this whole thing wasn’t about how fancy or spectacular the destination was. It was about the day being slow, calm, meditative, and new.

It went beyond “yeah, the BioPark is cool. I love it.” It was oneness with all things.

We called our good friend Robert, also a fan of the capricious and random. We headed down without cameras actually (these photos were taken on our return trip Sunday).  The day was pleasantly warm, with cool seams–the perfect walking, strolling, thinking weather.

Armed with a sketchpad, we hit the Aquarium first. Scuttling sturgeons and mud-gazing carp became gestural lines–fuel for future brush paintings. Stingrays effortlessly gliding just above the rocky surface reminded me to find the flow in overcoming obstacles. Their sleek bodies drifting, gliding, always moving, silent. There’s no argument there, no bullshit pettiness or backstabbing gossip casseroles, just natural movement. Keeping yourself going as you soar above the jumbled rocks.

Some of you already know my love of jellyfish. I paint them frequently. Capturing the light, almost non-existent jelliness is challenging and rewarding. They didn’t have very many jellies there, but that’s no matter. It was the perfect thing, at that moment, at that time. The jelly room was dime and comforting, like the interior of an ancient cave. A column of softly glowing Moon Jellies, glistening and drifting was centerstage. They’re not concerned about politics. They could care less about new cars, hair dye, prestige, designer fashion snippiness. I drew hundreds of thumbnails of them, drifting, floating. When we thought some were dead–they moved again each time. Always surprsing.

There seemed to be a weighty, natural sound to their silence.

A tub of chrysaora jellyfish, one of my favorites, was also present–backlit with plankton buzzing everywhere. I had never realized that I had not observed plankton up close, or had not actually realized I was doing so. The excited energy of the tiny lives, paired with the deliberate, smooth chrysaora was enchanting and balancing.

The walk through the botanical gardens was equally refreshing. We discovered a “Moorish Garden,” which we now call our backyard porch. We got lost in a children’s maze (scary for kids, I think), which had wild, giant fake veggies and many varieties of bamboo. We spent a huge chunk of time there, decompressing. I keep thinking now, every regular day, that I want to go back to the Moorish Garden and sit.

The Path, photo by me!

The Japanese garden was enjoyable as well, though not totally authentic–but who cares? Sketching random plants, pointing out odd things, and admiring the koi. We spent a long time here, sitting close to the water. A koi with blue eye shadow befriended Ken and kept coming back to see why Ken wasn’t tossing him bread.

Koi (curious about us), photo by me!

Japanese Garden, photo by me

More Koi, photo by me

The indoor desert and Mediterranean gardens were as “hot as Malaysia,” or so Robert declared. I held a huge millipede in my hands–he was shiny, black, and seemed unreal, very lightweight. He gently coiled (he was afraid), and then unraveled and used all of his legs to re-orient himself. Everything moving in unison.

By the time we left, we felt refreshed. Renewed. it was a personal Zen Center. A re-centering experience.

(Of course, there was funny stuff too–like our battle to stay 50 leauges ahead of any screaming nose-pickers, but you know! LOL!).

We went back again this weekend and spent several hours feeding the koi, watching their movements, personality, and faces.

After the gardens, we decided to eat somewhere expensive. It reminded us of San Francisco (I mean that fondly. In fact, the place here in town was actually more expensive than similar places in The City). Creole Pasta with Cream Sauce. Proper customer service in Albuquerque, imagine that! We were in Old Town then, and walked on foot into the little village, so commercialized and crazy, but fun.

The sun was getting low in the sky and cheesy flickering chili lights and neon signs made shimmering impressions.

All those piles of New Mexico shot glasses, hot chili suckers, and squash blossom jewelry–the perfect, funky end to a day of Tao.

On Sunday, we returned, this time with bread for the koi. Check them out!

Pushy Koi Wanting Bread, photo by me