Stories

Meet New Dissonance Board Member Luke LeBlanc

Dissonance is thrilled to welcome Luke LeBlanc as the 17th board member in our seven-year history. Luke is a folk-rock singer-songwriter who also works in finance as a billing analyst and is the owner of Access Tutoring, providing professional, caring and affordable tutoring for students of all ages.

We first met Luke at our 2022 Ghost Notes Fall Block Party. He stopped by to check out the music and vibe, and was promptly handed a guitar which led to an impromptu solo set early in the evening. It was fantastic, A month later, he contributed an insightful blog post for our website, entitled Thoughts on Thinking.

We are excited and grateful that Luke has now joined the Dissonance board as a leader and ambassador for our mission to promote health and wellness in and through the arts, and we’re happy to introduce you to him in this Q&A.

How did you hear about Dissonance, and what attracted you to the mission?

I learned about Dissonance by scrolling through Instagram (something I probably do a bit too much) and seeing Charlie Parr’s Sessions taping. I was tickled pink to see a non-profit based in my home city producing a video series that highlights artists, their music, and most importantly, the feelings behind their music. I think that we’re beginning to see a long-overdue cultural shift in people being more willing to talk about and process their emotions, whether that be publicly in podcasts, intimately with friends, or privately in therapy. When people do that, it leads others to do the same, and getting things off our chests tends to leave us collectively a bit more happy, productive, and empathetic. Dissonance provides me with an avenue to join an enthusiastic team in continuing this trend. 

How do you connect personally to the Dissonance mission?   

While I can’t speak for all singer-songwriters, I can say that I’ve personally had the tendency to experience the “extra strength” version of emotions, be it joy, worry, or conflict. This leads to a dissonance, so to speak. On the one hand, there are many times I wish I could just experience “worry-lite,” and move on with my day, but on the other, being able to sensitively tune my antenna into the spectrum of thoughts and emotions flowing through the river of my mind allows me to catch those feelings and process them into songs that inspire me enough to make albums out of them. 

Photo by Sarah Bel Kloetzke

This sort of trade-off has historically led to the myth that artists need to have “problems” from which they can mine inspiration and create. Dissonance is working hard to prove this mythology wrong by creating and supporting spaces that support the empathic and intuitive perspective that creatives give to the world, while fighting unhealthy coping mechanisms that old patterns have led us to believe they must experience at the same time. 

How do you stay well? 

I tend to cycle through different methods, but lately I’ve been trying to put the phone down every so often. Our phones give us access to a plethora of helpful tools and information, but they are extremely addicting. I’ve noticed that even small periods of intentionally untethering myself from it brings a sense of calm, whether it’s for an hour to intentionally relax and watch a show, or 10 minutes so I can start my mornings in a more calm and intentional way than reading an onslaught of memes and news headlines might allow. 

I also try to be with others when I can. Getting dinner with a friend, catching up with family over the phone, or even collaborating with a colleague serves as a restart to my mind, providing a chance to gain outside perspective on (or a health distraction from) the challenges or blindspots I might be experiencing. 

One of my most reliable ways of staying well is looking at things with a sense of humor as much as (reasonably) possible. Laughing at the absurdity of a petty argument or the ironic lesson I gleaned from a trying experience can lower the temperature and bring on feelings of ease when they’re needed most. 

It’s one thing to connect to a mission; it’s another to volunteer your time. What motivates you to be involved in that way?

While volunteering is selfless by nature, there’s always so much in it for the volunteer too, in terms of learning from colleagues, curating events and resources for others and getting to attend them, and feeling part of a collective beneficial cause bigger than oneself. They say love is a verb, so I’m thankful for opportunities to stay active within a creative community that I truly admire.

What can you share about your latest and upcoming music projects? 

I released an album in October 2022 entitled Fugue State that centers around the sense of unease we’ve experienced the last few years. Often defined as a temporary state where a person loses awareness of their identity as a defense against psychological stress, a “fugue state” is something I think we’ve been experiencing as a society lately. From deep cultural divide, to a once in a century pandemic, to overdue social reckoning in the world and at home in the U.S., we’ve lost a bit of our identity and direction and are desperately trying to find it again. I see the album not as an avenue to provide solutions, but as a place to start processing our feelings about it first. Processing these feelings is a necessary step before we can discover solutions to rebuild in a sustainable way.

Besides that, a few months ago I brought the band down to Erik Koskinen’s studio in Cleveland, MN, to record a new album. I don’t know when it’s coming out yet, but I can say that recording it was the most fun I’ve ever had in the recording studio. I hope that means we did something right. 

Learn more about Luke and his music on his website, and catch up with him on social media: Facebook, TwitterInstagram and YouTube.

Photo by Sarah Bel Kloetzke

Over and Over

By Katy Vernon

Whenever someone asks what led me to become a songwriter, I tell them that from an early age I realized it was easier to sing about my feelings than talk about them.

Some really sad and difficult events happened during my childhood (my mum died when I was 12; my dad died 5 years later), and I found that really difficult to discuss with others. As a child, if I tried to open up about grieving my parents  I would often find myself consoling others instead of feeling supported myself. I was craving connection and reassurance but instead found myself in these awkward and upsetting situations. So I learned to keep my feelings inside—to not tell my stories.

In search of an outlet, I began to pour my thoughts and feelings into songs. To a certain extent, I found I could share my feelings of grief, loss and longing in this way. I was singing pretty melodies, and my voice was attractive enough that people paid attention. I finally felt heard. However, there were still many things I didn’t think I’d ever speak or sing about.

One is the story I’m about to share. It seemed almost too personal, but when I learned I would be part of a showcase called Morningside After Dark: Moving Pictures — a special public event Dissonance is sponsoring on Monday, Feb. 27, 2023, in Edina, MN — I was inspired to capture it in music.

Once Upon a Time on National TV

On the evening of Nov. 9, 1981, Juliet Vernon was a guest on the long running BBC political program ‘Panorama.’ The discussion that night was about the rights of children with disabilities and their family caretakers. Juliet’s oldest child Peter had been born not breathing. 

“It was 23 minutes before he breathed, and during his first 3 or 4 days of life he stopped breathing for periods of up to 5 to 10 minutes over and over and over again,” she said.

Each desperate lifesaving effort further contributed to the severe disabilities he would live with for the rest of his life. Not only was Juliet not made aware of the extent of these medical repercussions, but she was sent home from the hospital told only that Peter might have slight issues with the function of his left arm. In the months and years to come, it became clear that his left arm was actually the only part of his body he had any modicum of control over. 

Juliet Vernon was my motheR.

My mum dedicated her life to caring for Peter. He lived at home until 1980, when at the age of 15 he was too heavy to be physically cared for full-time solely by my parents. He still came home every weekend and accompanied us on every family road trip. My mother made sure his care was central to our family's life. He was and still is greatly loved.

That evening, it was very exciting to know she was going to be on live TV. We didn’t have a VCR yet and YouTube was many years away, so as my Dad accompanied her to the BBC Lime Grove Studios, we were dropped off at a neighbor’s house so we could stay up late and tune in. It wasn’t the kind of show I normally would have watched as a child, but I knew it was popular and serious and that everyone we knew was going to tune in.

Juliet and Katy Vernon

Juliet died just three years after that appearance.

What she said that night wasn’t heard again until September 2018. For over 34 years, I didn’t hear my mother’s voice. I had forgotten what she sounded like. Her light southern Welsh accent, with it’s sing-song cadence brimming with warmth and kindness.  After years of wondering if video of this episode existed, I reached out to the still-running program via social media. I didn’t know the exact year and date that it was filmed. All I could provide was her name and a loose description of the subject matter.

Less than 24 hours later, a little notification on my phone alerted me that my deep-rooted curiosity would finally be satisfied. I had to wait for a few months, but eventually a nearly-3-minute video arrived in my inbox—a modern miracle beaming from London to Minnesota. It had been so long, from 1981 to 2018. Finally, a chance to peer back in time and see and hear my mother once again.

I set myself the challenge of writing a song about this. The only moving pictures I will ever have of my mother made such an impact. What felt lost forever now sits on my phone. At any time, I can click and watch and hear her. The real her. Emotional, fierce, vulnerable, kind. For most of my life she felt like some ethereal perfection that I would never really know. This short video brings back a connection and reminds me of the real woman.

Juliet and Katy Vernon

That’s a lot to try and capture in a song.

After the first and second verses came to me almost complete, it took me two more weeks to finish.—painstakingly revisiting every word to try and make it all make sense. 

I don’t usually write literal story songs. This one had to have a clear narrative: what’s it about, why does it matter, how does it progress, what does that mean, how does it resolve—all questions I never usually ask myself when writing.

I am usually more instinctive and free-flowing, but with this song the stakes felt high to get it right and do the story justice. This type of rulemaking with writing typically inhibits my creativity, but I pushed through the pressure. It was all self-imposed anyway, and that was a good reminder to just keep trying.

What I have now is a tribute to my mum, and hopefully it does the story justice and brings me some peace. I hope it helps inspire other people or brings them comfort.

Also, a piece of advice that I would like to pass along in relation to this experience: make the time to film and record your loved ones while you can.

Katy Vernon is a professional musician , a mom and spouse, and a Dissonance board member .

Performing Over and Over.

Over and Over lyrics

Staring at a photograph

Wishing I could I hear you laugh

Chasing an echo of a whisper

The voice that read to me each night

Was part of you that first took flight

Been racing time to remember

in my mirror I still see your face

In the smiles of my girls you left a trace

After all these years without a sound 

I felt so lost until I found

40 seconds of film 

After 34 years of silence

A way to reel you in

Pull you  back from the distance 

So much of my life 

I never had a choice

Never gave up hope  

That I’d hear my mothers voice

I’d get to hear your voice   

Over and over again 

I put  you on a pedestal 

It only made you feel less real

Someone I could not live up to

But now I see and hear you speak

It makes you seem so close to me 

I found a way to be with you 

in my mirror I still see your face

In the smiles of my girls you left a trace

After all these years without a sound 

I felt so lost until I found

40 seconds of film 

After 34 years of silence

A way to reel you in

Pull you  back from the distance 

So much of my life 

I never had a choice

But I Never gave up hope  

That I’d hear my mothers voice

I’d get to hear your voice again   

Over and over again 

Over and over again

Over and over 

Juliet Vernon

Juliet and Katy Vernon