Echolalia

Reflections from the Christmas Tree

The week that sits smugly between Christmas and New Year's has always been a week of limbo wonderland for me.

I love the smells and the sights of the holiday season. I like how people seem to be just a little nicer (when they aren't stressing out over parking spaces and retail deals.)

I love getting the tree out, and remembering the who, what, and when of the stories our ornaments tell. The stringing of lights -- should we do all white? Purple? Multi-colored? And where are those little pinecones and snowmen I love? I like the cold weather, the white of the snow, the gentle snowflakes falling against the window --sticking fast then melting slowly, the birds perched on branches, pecking away at the seeds, the warmth of the fire,the smell of hot cocoa with gooey marshmallows that melt into oblivion, the sweet taste of candy canes, the tartness of the lemon over the fish... oh, the sights and sounds and smells of the season can be intoxicating!

But then there is the end of the year, the reckoning of what was and wasn't accomplished. Where we were and where we are now. It is incredibly sobering to stop and take measure of what you've done with the last twelve months.  How much you've grown, and for many of us, how much you may have regressed in areas where you most needed to let go.

I get a double-whammy of navel-gazing this time of year because my birthday falls during this week, too. I think of where I am with my health -- my family, my friends, my work -- and where I may have thought I wanted to be. Fortunately, I don't think I would change much if I had the chance to relive my life. I find myself ever bolder than ever these days, saying what I think, and meaning what I say. I am trying to make what is hopefully, the second half of my life even more rich than the first. I tend to think that we age like fine wine -- we only get better with time. But stopping to assess and enjoy a few sips along the way is essential. No sense in going to your grave with an unopened bottle.

When I was in grade school, I hated having a holiday week birthday. Mine was celebrated with family, but without much fanfare, and honestly, that was something I grew to expect. I'm not actually complaining. I think they did the best they could -- as they struggled with their own demons during the holidays -- but they did share this unmistakable melancholy veil that tinted holidays to come.

As I got older and could choose what I wanted, I was fortunate to have colleagues for friends. They would have champagne and cake with me if I worked that week. And my sweet husband always remembers and has surprised me with his creativity and kindness, especially in years where I have felt the lack of sunshine and the paradoxical sadness which is the other side of holiday joy.

I think about so many people who suffer from loneliness during a season even though they are surrounded by people. I have worked hard to combat those feelings by adopting people as family into my life. We spent this Christmas Eve surrounded by our "chosen family." Many of us were talking about how incredibly cool it is to be with people who don't put you into any role from your childhood. No family fights, no biting commentary. Just silliness and laughter and a sense of camaraderie.

The idea of having people in your life because you want them there, not because they have to be there is quite compelling to me.  Spontaneous expressions of wonderment which come from sharing experiences is the best gift of all. Having someone like you for you. That's more than any mandatory family (or relationship) can offer, it is indeed something to be treasured. I am not a religious person, and although I know some people think labeling yourself as "spriritual" is a cop-out -- it's the truth. I don't believe in a "god" but I do believe in the magic of our spirit. I believe in people I meet who are extraordinary in their willingness to grow. I believe in old souls and new perspectives. I get the butterfly effect -- I feel it. Energy is alive and can be shared or sucked out of us depending upon our own awareness of how we affect others.

Not sure what 2014 will bring, but looking back on this year, and celebrating this past week with people I care deeply about makes me feel very lucky indeed.

 

 

Regrets, I've had a few #30DBC

 

Sharing what you feel is like unleashing spring in your heart. It's a time of renewal, excitement, and hope.

This morning, on Sunday Morning (CBS TV show) , there was a very emotional piece about regrets.  

 

Given all the craziness of the last week -- Boston, West, Texas, etc. it is a perfect time to reflect on all the things you should have, could have, would have said ..."if only." As they said in the commentary, we don't get to set Mother Nature's clock. You have to do it now before your chance is forever taken from you.

Author Jackie Hooper started thinking about this concept when Natasha Richardson died unexpectedly a couple of years ago. The actress developed a brain hemmorage after a seemingly innocuous hit to the head while on the ski slopes. Her family and friends never had a chance to say what they needed to say as she died within two days of her fall.  Jackie sent out a note to friends, family and elsewhere -- asking people to write to her with those things that they wish they had said. Letters poured in from all over the world. She turned that into a book.

Watching this piece brought upon so many emotions at once. I miss my dad, and I know I would have liked to tell him things -- maybe correct things I said in anger -- or at least explain them -- and now I can't.  I also think of times when I was really a jerk. Not quite a bully, but I didn't have the best intentions when I opened my mouth. I wince internally when I try to figure out why I reacted in the way I did, so many years ago. Occasionally, I reach out to people (and they must think I've lost my marbles) and say -- remember about oh, 25 years ago, I said...

On the other hand, I really try to tell people who are in my life why they are important to me. My kids and husband are smothered sometimes -- as I think you should say "I love you" and mean it -- and I always feel so filled with gratitude when they spontaneously burst with emotion. My close friends know that I love them, and care for them, and feel better because they are in my life. I say so only when I mean it -- because I think you can feel when someone truly loves you, regardless of what words they may use or choose not to say. It's always tricky to put yourself out there, especially with declarations of love. Maybe the other person doesn't think you are a best friend, maybe she feels funny -- as we all have our internal scripts about loyalty and devotion.

Say what you have to say. It's hard, it's scary, it can be fraught with its own "what if's."  But if you need to apologize, explain, or express something -- just do it. Your very world may change because of it. I know mine has. And it will continue -- as I push myself to be honest with the people who have brought so much into my life.

Sunday Morning... If Only....   and the video piece, here... 

(Thank you for the link, Kelley Smith.)

Of cats and mice. Why my cats go in & out #30DBC

Do you have a pet?

A dog... or maybe a cat? Maybe both?

If so, perhaps you can relate.

My husband and I both grew up with animals.  When we got our first apartment in Hoboken we both wanted to adopt a cat. Over time, and many moves, we picked up cats wherever we settled.  The first two cats lived mostly inside with us as we lived in high rises and multiple-unit dwellings. By the time the third cat was added to our brood, we owned our own home in the 'burbs. All three cats quickly adapted to the indoor/outdoor routine. They'd sleep inside at night, and lounge in the sun on the hot slate during the day.

Eventually we were, in fact, that crazy couple with the big house and five cats and a dog. Yup.  No human offspring, but those pets were our family. Eventually, our son and daughter were born, our family grew.

And if truth be told, when all of our original cats (16 or so years down the line) and our dog moved on to the great big barn in the sky -- as much as we missed our companions, we secretly relished the time we had with no kitty litter to scoop -- and no daily hairballs to vacuum.

But something was missing.

About two years ago a 4 week old kitten came into our lives. It had been found wandering in someone's backyard. That person brought the kitten in a box to his doctor (a cat lover) and in turn, Buddy came to live with us.  A few short months later, while picking up cat food at Pet Smart, the lovely gray kitty you see, Daffodil,  left the shelter and joined us.  She was just 6 months old.

Neither cat is declawed. For the most part, they live inside. But since we live in a fairly quiet neighborhood, we let our cats be, well, cats.  

You're still with me? Bet you are wondering where I am going with this.

Well, I have been reading articles deriding cat owners who let their pets roam outdoors. For example, this article in the New York Times explains how cats are killing machines and they are wiping out the rodent and bird populations.  There are 1000 comments and so many of them come from people who are incredibly judgemental. There is a very angry group of people who call those of us who have indoor/outdoor cats "irresponsible."   

Both cats are neutered.  They visit the vet at least 2x/year -- usually to board if we are away more than a few days. That gives them a chance to been seen by the vet for a quick exam and they get their teeth cleaned or nails clipped or shots or whatever is necessary.

Our felines love to sit outside in the sun -- and often, they like to play in the snow! They sit and the door and beg to go out. And watching them sniff the air and chase after leaves in the wind is delightful.  

Do they kill small rodents? Yes. Moles, especially. Birds? Yes, a few are irresistable. But more often than not, they lay in the grass and play with the moths.  To our delight, they chase the crows away. And when it's dark out, we shake the treat bag and call their names and they come back in. We do our best to get them in every evening as there are coyotes that roam in the hills nearby -- but there are some hot summer nights where it is just too exciting for them to return. As we make our coffee when the sun rises, a hungry cat will show up for a snack, a head butt, and a long nap.

I think animals, like people, are not designed to live exclusively indoors. I think that life itself is greatly improved by being outside in nature.  Would a cat live longer if he didn't have access to a busy road? Sure. Would I be safer if I never left my house? Sure. But what kind of life would that be for either of us?

I know. They are natural born killers. They hunt for fun. But to be honest, I'm glad they keep the moles out of my garden. I am thrilled when they catch a field mouse that has found it's way under my dishwasher.  That's what cats do!

I think to taking creatures that are born to roam and locking them behind screen doors is selfish. Whose life is better? Yours or the cats?  I'd rather my cat have 8 exciting lives than 10 behind bars. But that's just my opinion. What about yours?

 

 

 

 

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28 things you didn't know about me #30DBC

OK, complete stream of consciousness here... let's have some fun.

1. I have eclectic music tastes. I seriously listen to everything. If you were to attempt to classify my 20+ gigs of music on my iPod (which is a slice of what I own) you would think I was was crazy. But that's what happens when you grow up wanting to be on the radio.
2. I love the color pink. And black. And white. And turquoise blue. I spent months following a stranger who owned a metallic neon pink beetle because I wanted to get my car painted the exact same color.
3. I love to read. Stephen King's book,  The Stand is still one of the best stories I've ever consumed. Multiple times.
4. I love macaroni and cheese with lobster.
5. Butter runs through my veins. President is my favorite brand. Because it's French. Those French cows make special milk and when churned with some Mediterranean sea salt? It's heaven on a cracker.
6. I hate milk chocolate.
7. I love dark chocolate.
8. I hate chocolate martinis.
9. Good flourless chocolate cake? OMG!
10. I like dirty martinis. Grey Goose, please.
11. I love the old Star Trek, The Next Generation. One of the episodes, the one about a race where the people were all of neutral gender -- just made me cry.
12. I keep people in my life forever -- unless they are mean.
13. But generally, I am quick to forgive and forget.
14. I think Captiva has one of the most beautiful beaches in the world -- lots of shells and gorgeous sunsets. 
15. That said, St. John rules when it comes to beaches. Crystal blue water -- white sand. Heaven on earth. I cannot wait to return someday.
16. I am a voracious reader. I still love the original Kindle for reading books. I'm not big on biographies -- but I love good fiction with complex characters.
17. Sometimes, nothing but a beer and chips with sour cream will do.
18. My daughter is a mini-me. I'm scared about her upcoming teenage years as I'm not as strict as my mother and she's not as disciplined or mature as I was at her age. And I am glad that she is still young in her mind, actions and heart. She's very light and still innocent.
19. Chanel 19 is the perfume I bought in France when I was 19 and I have worn it consistently since then.
20. I am naturally a dirty blonde but I have tried life as a brunette, a redhead, but usually return to my roots with highlights. Hair grows. It's fun to change it up now and then. 
21. Steely Dan? Love that band. Donald Fagen's The Nightfly has got to be one of the best albums ever recorded. 
22. I worked in radio and would love to have my own talk show. Preferably held with coffee and maybe wine and cheese.
23. I never liked spectator sports much. But since my son started baseball? I'm a huge fan. I love watching and taking action photos of the kids in all the sports they participate in (including bowling, soccer and swimming.)
24. I think people who hate cats have never really known a cat. They are pretty amazing creatures -- they choose you -- they don't just obey. A relationship with a cat is different than one with dogs. (And I love dogs, too.) 
25. I am a romantic. I like the sweeping gestures. And not necessarily just in matters of the heart. I love the idea of having a home in a community. Yet, I love the anonomity of the big city. Both are romantic sweeping notions of a life as I picture it in my mind. I wish I could live the life of an artist in Paris for a summer and then I'd like to learn how to make olive oil for a summer in Italy. I think that disconnect from reality would be a refreshing change of view.
26. I daydream incessantly. Especially during summer. In the hammock. Under the tree. With a cat.
27. I love to take pictures.
28. I play the guitar when I need to feel deeply. 

Your turn.

Breaking Bread in the 'Burbs #30DBC

I just read an article in the New York Times about the demise of a city institution, The Dinner Party.

Free on Saturday night for dinner and poker?

The author talked about how difficult it is to fill the table with interesting people, plan the "right" menus, and deal with guests who don't really know the rules of etiquette.  They don't always RSVP, and if they do, it's last minute and via text.

I lived in Manhattan when I was out of college. I was far too broke and unconnected to be part of any social circle that involved the dinner ritual. I would read articles about fancy parties and imagined myself dressing up to the nines (what does that mean anyway?!) and being seated next to good conversationalists in art and business circles. "Well when I was in Cannes..." I'd begin.

Yep.

Instead, I found my life partner and he and I moved out of our city apartments, had a year lay over in Hoboken and eventually wound up in Old Greenwich, CT. A completely different fantasy filled my head. I saw the 30 somethings from Wall St -- blond women with tow headed children on the beach at the point -- husbands coming home off the train. And for a while, I imagined myself in that role -- throwing the annual Christmas parties or having a masked ball.

All along, I had a job. I actually had several. I was never a socialite, and I worked in an office until I formed my consulting practice a few years before we had our kids.  Poof! The fantasy of fancy dinners disappeared.

When we moved "upstate" (actually Central New York) we knew a handful of people. Most of us had young children. We also enjoyed adult company. And through a desire to do both -- have our limited time filled with our kids, keep expensive babysitters and evenings out to a treat -- we started having dinner parties.

These were not fancy affairs, but they were culinary adventures. We've had lots of theme nights -- soup, salads, barbeque, Japanese, takeout Thai, meals on sticks, freshly caught wild game -- you name it, we'd do it. Everyone would bring something and we'd eat together and share stories of job hunting, health, politics, religion, sex, caring for aging parents, and raising children. 

And when dinner was done, we played Texas Hold'em. In the beginning, when the kids were really young, we'd put them to sleep and stay up talking and drinking and playing until 2:00am. As the years progressed and early weekend sports became the norm, we've found that we need to end things by 10:30 or 11:00 so everyone can get home and sleep before the next morning.

Breaking bread together has been a very significant part of my social life. My kids have learned how important it is to welcome people into your life, into your home and to be kind.  We've had nights with upwards of 12 kids running around while we adults were crowded around a table, laughing, and forming inside jokes that will last for years (Lenny Kravitz!) Some friends have been staples around the table, and we've had a few move on  -- some  literally -- to other countries! I wish it were possible to do more than 4 couples at at time. It gets a bit unweildy when there are more -- but sometimes we do it anyway.

One of the interesting things is how much you can tell about people when you play a game that is social and yet cerebral with other couples. People who are too competitive or nit-picking their spouses just don't make it back. We have a lot of mutual respect and admiration for the people around our table and always bring in new couples or singles who are easy-going and interesting -- but to be honest, I've invited people just because I'd like to get to know them. Funny thing, as the kids have more activities on the weekends, we've had a difficult time coordinating our dinners. And we've discovered that or kids miss them as much as we do.

I wouldn't trade our weekend gatherings -- as simple as they are -  for a million NYC dinner parties. Would you?

BFF? OFF! Old Friends Forever #30DBC

I have a lot of "old friends."  Yes, many of them are up in years, but that's not what I mean, silly.

I am still in touch with people I have known from the beginning of my life, at least as much as I can remember. I play Words With Friends with my friend Meg who I have known since kindergarten and even though she moved away in 4th grade, I still can remember her expressions as if I were still 10, too! I can't wait to spend some time IRL (in real life) having dinner or a girls weekend someday. I've never met her husband or kids nor she mine, but I follow along with her Facebook postings and love that she is still part of my life after all these years. For some reason, I just *know* that we will have a good time when we meet.

Robin and I have been friends since the first day of high school. We've shared lots of life events -- first crushes, boys and mint chocolate chip kisses, falling in love, having babies, the death of our parents and more through the years.  Back in the day when we used tape for phone messages, she and I would use it all up, leaving each other 1/2 hour long messages!

Megan I met after college in NYC -- an unlikely friendship formed as we were both roomates of an absent roomate -- and we wound up both leaving that NYC apartment and getting a place of our own. (Basement of a house in Weehawken. We had a particularly memorable experience when it flooded from a nasty storm one year.) She and I have more belly laughs, challenges of intellect (Megan is an Excel pro), dreams of getting our business off the ground (and dealing with conmen and crazy personalities) and she fixed me up with my husband to boot! 

I spent a few escapist hours yesterday with my friend Kathy who I met when I was just 19. We shared the summer  together when we both signed up for a semester in France. Ah, to be young in Paris in 1984. 13 francs to the dollar if I recall correctly. We had a few weeks in Paris, then time in St. Malo, and then we spent the last few just traveling along the Riviera -- without a care in the world. Those memories will always be part of my vision of Kathy. Through the years, we've camped together, we've had children, we've survived illnesses, and I've watched mental illness take her sweet, brilliant husband away from her and change both of their lives, forever.

I could name everyone, make a list -- "mark" it up with details. But I can't summarize how important these people are to me and who I am today. They make me whole.

There is something that only 20+ years of knowing a person can do for you. Kind of puts everything into perspective.  You don't need to repeat all the background stories, they just get it. They know who you are and they still love you. And you, them.

My dad told me that I was lucky if I had one best friend in the world.  He died at 72 in 2006 and his best friend, Joe, died this past September. After my dad passed, I talked with Joe on the phone several times. It was like talking with my dad. He had that same calm voice, that wry sense of humor, incredible intelligence, charm, and wit, and great advice. They were friends for 40+ years. And man, did they share some crazy life changes through those years.

Do you keep in touch with your old friends? Do you tell them how much they mean to you? Time flies -- slow it down a bit and make sure to reach out. It's good for you, it's good for them, too. 

Next post -- love the one you're with. :)  (It's important to make new friends, too.)

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Keep waking up in the middle of the night?

 

Oh! I hate when I'm deep in the middle of a great escapist adventure and then *BOOM* I drop out of the sky back into my 
bed and I'm jolted wide awake! 

This happens to you, too, right?

Some people suggest that it's good to get up and read or write down whatever is on your mind. That can help people retain those brilliant ideas that seem to eviscerate the moment the sun comes up.

I suppose that would work if I could think clearly.

I find that when I wake, my heart is often pounding and my mind is racing as it breaches the delicate surface of my dreamscape. I struggle to determine if I'm dreaming, imagining or just experiencing whatever it is that has my mind wrapped ever so tightly. If I try to get up and write down what I've been seeing then I break the spell: 
I simply can't get back to sleep. It's as if once those wheels start turning, they are forced to keep turning! 

I'm not sure what's worse -- being wide away, staring up at the ceiling waiting for that moment where eyelids flutter and I'm back in my dream world OR -- being very sleepy -- but too damned tired to go back to sleep.

I think the latter can be worse because I know without those 8 hours of "beauty rest" I get the early afternoon blahs. And with that in mind, after I fuss a bit, I force myself to go back to sleep so that the rest of my day can be productive.

It's amazing to me that we really don't know much about why we sleep or what really happens to us when we sleep. It takes up between 1/4 and 1/3 or our lives -- and yet we still don't have a clue why our bodies need a span of time to rejuvinate us. Sleep deprivation is absolutely a form of torture -- as all new parents know. All I am sure of is that I can't function during the waking hours unless I get into what I call "my deep freeze." For me, that's not just resting. It's more of a restorative coma (for lack of a better descriptive word) that allows me to wake feeling rested and with energy to attack my day.

One of my favorite pieces on the subject of sleep -- and as a frequent traveler --why we can't sleep well on the first night in a new place, then you MUST listen to one of my favorite RadioLab podcasts. It will change the way you think about the thing you do every night -- sleep.

Zzzzzz..... 

Echolalia and my favorite childhood author, Remy Charlip

A friend of mine asked me today where I got the idea for the name "Echolalia" for my blog. She has a sun (OK, a SON)   --  a warm, engaging, big bear of a hugging creature who we've watched blossom through the years despite being on the autistic spectrum. As she knows, the word, "echolalia" is actually used to describe something that many autistic kids do... they hear something and they repeat it, over and over. Her "sun" T-Bone likes to do that to his own amusement and ours.

No, Dee, I knew about "echolalia" since the early 1970's.

It was all because of a book my dad brought home -- sometime in my early childhood. The book, Arm in Arm by Remy Charlip, was the most amazing book my sisters and I had ever been exposed to. In fact, I think it is one of the reasons I would write letters and doodle fantastic images along the sides. Anyway, on the inside page, the subtitle was A Collection of Connections, Endless Tales, Reiterations, and other Echolalia). What a strange word I thought!

Arm & Arm was filled with silly ditties and amazing stories. Pictures that morphed into other pictures. Sentences and pictures that ran across pages. Some stories required the reader to turn the book around and around the read all the words!

One of the things I remember about my dad is how he read these little snippets of stories night after night without complaint. The stories themselves became inside family jokes -- it wouldn't take more than a "On a dark and stormy night..." to come out of one of our mouths  -- to get us all to recite the rest.

Many years later, when we were helping my dad clean our childhood home, we all felt compelled to find "the book." We couldn't remember the name of the book nor the author, but we were determined to find it -- it became an obsession. I remember searching through box after box, pile after pile, only to come up empty handed. All we could remember for sure is that it was a white book with some fantastic drawings and it started out with a tale of two octopusses who got married. (They walked down the aisle "Arm in Arm in Arm in Arm in Arm in Arm in Arm in Arm!)

My sister Deborah gets all the credit for finding it. And I know Google was involved! She searched and searched for phrases that she remembered and after many false starts, one day she hit the jackpot. Much to our great delight, my sister Christy and I each got a copy for Christmas one year. Needless to say, it was one of the best presents I have ever received.

I remember when I first opened it after so many years. I gathered my kids close and watched their delight as we flipped through the pages.  Eventually, I purchased the full complement of Remy Charlip books -- because, they too, some 45+ years after this one was published -- still find his illustrations and witty stories a gateway to giggles! All I have to say is "I see the moon." and they say "And the moon sees me."  Or "you're a copy cat" only to hear "copy kitten!" followed by peals of laughter! Of course, my husband's name is Pete, so the other favorite is "Pete and Repete were sitting on a fence, Pete fell off and who was left? REPETE ! Pete and Repete..." You get it, right? Perfect kid stuff!

This one book changed the way I thought about books and art, and humor, and expression. 

My kids say their favorite Remy Charlip book besides Arm & Arm -- is the tale of Big Little Beard, Little Big Beard.  (It's officially titled: Little Old Big Beard and Big Young Little Beard: A Short and Tall Tale. (All of his books are available on Amazon.) Sadly, I read that Remy passed away this past summer. Thank goodness his books will live on. He inspired me to think in color and squiggles. How about you?

Do you have a favorite childhood book?

 

An illustration from Arm in Arm: Remy Charlip

 

Comfort Food

I don't know if it's just because it's raining and it's 50 degrees out. Or maybe it's because it's allergy season again and we're all a bit under the weather in our house...

Not sure what is driving me to cook up a storm.  (I have several theories. But mostly, cooking is therapeutic for me -- it's how I take care of the people around me, too.  When I could be doing other things like organizing my papers, cleaning out my office, my messy closet or something more productive, cooking feels indulgently pratical. After all, you have to eat, right?)

Anyway, I guess it doesn't really matter, but I am on my way to Wegman's again -- for much needed supplies.

I have a friend who desparately needs some Morning Glory muffins -- my kids are craving oatmeal cookies with dates -- and thinking about dinner, it seems like turkey over mashed potatoes with some jelled cranberry and sauce might make us all feel right.

I was getting ready to make this butternut squash soup, when I realized that I needed a few more ingredients.   Now I'm often one of those cooks who just improvises. I take the recipe as a suggestion and hunt around my kitchen looking for things that would work to give me the experience that is promised in the written word. For some reason, today I feel like I need more structure to focus my mind.

Something about the rhythm of the chopping, the reliance on a recipe, the heat from the oven, the smells that slowly fill the kitchen then spread like a serpent-genie throughout the house -- gives me that feeling of home.  Have you ever felt kind of lost, and then a simple whiff of something just brings you back in? In moments like these I just am grasping for a feeling to hold onto -- kind of an ethereal hug.  I guess that's why they call it comfort food.

 

Cello - Like You've Never Heard It.

This past Sunday, I had the pleasure of watching experiencing Zoe Keating perform live in Buffalo, New York at a really cool venue -- Asbury Hall. Ani DiFranco (another amazing master of emotions) bought this old church and spent years renovating it so that it could be used for the arts.  The resulting setting is intimate and magical.

I am a big fan of Radio Lab -- a podcast produced by WNYC and easily accessed via iTunes. There was an episode back in 2008 where they explored the notion of alternative universes -- quantum physics if you will, and as part of this -- there was a short piece called Quantum Cello. The featured artist that captured my imagination was Zoe Keating. 

Zoe is an "avant cellist" -- that is, she's not a traditional string musician -- relegated to only classical music. She is a one-woman orchestra combining technology with her cello to allow her to create nuanced, layered, worlds of sound. She does things with the cello that you don't see. She taps it, bangs it, sliding her fingers up and down the strings -- she makes it wail.

Zoe shared how she organically created worlds of sound by laying down tracks of music, then accompanying herself. Each time she plays, the sound is slightly different and she needs to adjust her interepretation of her own music depending upon how the  previous track was played. It's really a fascinating concept -- and a real treat for anyone who visualizes the sounds she hears in her head.

Now about 3 years ago, my son, John-Luke, decided to join the school orchestra. He is still learning but I can hear his heart in what he plays. He feels the music deeply. Last year, on a long trip down to visit family in Virginia, I shared the Radio Lab podcast with him -- and he -- like me -- was mezmerized. Shortly thereafter, I downloaded her music from iTunes and the two of us became obsessed.

You can listen to it yourself -- click here to go directly to Radio Lab to download the podcast.

Hearing Zoe on your stereo is one thing. Watching her perform her magic live is another. Halfway during the concert, my son decided to use his iPod to tape her. He has been trying to recreate her compositions in a crude way -- as he doesn't have the software or foot pedal controls needed to create loops.  Zoe does not write down her sheet music -- so if you want to play her compositions, you have to study her.  Watching JL recreate some of what he hears and watching him get inspired to write his own music makes me beam with pride and joy. One thing that frustrates him about playing cello is that the instrument is often just used as a base layer -- the violins and other string instruments get to play the real melody. What Zoe taught him is that the cello can sing, and he, too, can use it to share his voice and his vision.

She's so much more than a musician. She's so kind and smart -- and those qualities ooze from her during her performance. We were fortunate to get to talk with her for a few minutes after the show. I honestly can't wait to find a way to bring her to Syracuse in spring. I think all the music students from the area would feel her creativity seep into their consciousness by spending an hour with her. And anyone who loves music owes it to himself to listen.

Take a look at this video about how she expresses herself through her music and you'll be hooked too.

A look into Zoe's creative process as an artist