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empathy

Music, Empathy, and Humanness: An Interview with The Brilliance

Music, Empathy, and Humanness: An Interview with The Brilliance

Our entire ethos as a band is to try to create art that inspires empathy. And part of the reason we would say “art that inspires empathy,” is to be human is to also be connected to something bigger than just yourself.
— The Brilliance
the brilliance.jpg

With special appreciation to the musicians I have the gift of working with…

-Allie


Allie Ramsey: So, today we are talking about music and humanness from the perspective of two people who create beautiful music.

David Gungor: Thank you. 

Allie: I was hoping to talk to you on this topic of music and humanness because I think your music, in particular, is something that I go back to over and over again, in order to draw out something in me that feels small that I want to become more robust. Or to draw out something I haven’t been able to fully connect to on my own. Can relate to that, or are there other musicians that do that for you?

David: Thank you. Our entire ethos as a band is to try to create art that inspires empathy. And part of the reason we would say “art that inspires empathy,” is to be human is to also be connected to something bigger than just yourself. 

A lot of times in the West, in America, we tend to think through a Cartesian model of thinking, like, “I think therefore I am,” and it’s only about myself. Our starting point is, to be fully human is always to be a relational being. And we’re always connected to the other. In certain traditions and in certain upbringings, for instance in South Africa, you have the word “ubuntu,” which means “if you are not well, I am not well.” And our connectedness to each other and to the earth and to all of the cosmos. And so part of our band’s ethos is art that inspires empathy. Empathy towards the other will always lead to empathy back toward yourself. Because it’s connected.

John Arndt: I guess my favorite aspect of making music, and The Brilliance is a really great vehicle for this, is it’s an opportunity for me, for us to express ourselves, and to express things we are feeling or things we can’t fully understand, or things we’re struggling with. And the miracle of this process is, in doing that, we create things that somehow resonate with other people. That somehow becomes a voice and a part of their own story. And so in my life as, I am a full-time artist, I’m a full-time writer, and sometimes I’ll have these [moments of], you know, “What are you doing? You should have a salary and a mortgage, and that kind of thing.” And the thought that I have that brings me the most peace about what I’m doing and what we’re doing is, at any given moment on the planet right now, our music is resonating in different rooms. And in different peoples lives, and on some level, our music and our hopes and our dreams are vibrating in the earth and in some way - I hope - making it a little bit more peaceful and a little bit more whole. That thought of the connectedness that comes from us expressing ourselves is a miracle and I’m grateful to be able to be a part of it. 

Allie: That is really true of my experience. Your music has resonated in my soul in a powerful way. 

John: Thank you

Allie: I was curious, given that music is so powerful, and can be such an impactful way of inspiring empathy, inspiring a sense of connectedness to all of humanity, or to others who enjoy that song or piece -- what it's like for you two as artists to wield that sort of power? 

David: I think one, is there is a certain burden, and there is a certain thing where music transcends language. So like melody, if you’re drawn into it you can wrestle with an idea, and you’re feeling it first (and I know this is somewhat metaphorical) but you’re feeling it first in your body, before you’re really comprehending with your mind what’s happening. So I feel like when you have that type of thing with music, when there’s a melody and a thing that’s moving people, there is a certain responsibility to not just try to manipulate things (where you’re trying to write in a certain way that will just cause an emotional response). And a lot of times lyrically that can happen, when you’re writing something, it’s really easy to feel like you’re the hero, or you’re the person that believes the right thing, or you’re the person that controls this power. 

John: So, the huge pit fall in my life in regards to this is I’m always chasing a feeling. My favorite experiences in music, they have to do with hearing something and then having a physical response to it. And for me it's like a feeling in my chest and down my spine, I would say. In general, if I hear something that moves me, it's like a physical sensation. So for me oftentimes, the creative process is an uncovering of that sensation when I discover an idea, or a collection of sounds paired with an idea, that I experience that feeling, and I go, “Ah! This is a thing.” 

What happens when I’m pursuing that on a day to day basis, even in the process of making a song, the big pitfall in my life is becoming a feelings junky. You know, it doesn’t always feel good, and oftentimes it’s work, and how about the 300th time you listen to this same song you’re working on. Just about every song we’ve ever made has been at one point my favorite song I’ve ever heard and my least favorite song that I’ve ever heard. 

(laughter) 

And all of those perspectives on some level are valid. You put a song out there in the world, you’ve got people that go, “That song’s complete bullshit,” and they can have a perfectly valid reason for saying that, and I don’t think they’re wrong, because I’ve probably experienced that perspective too. So what’s tricky then as a result of this, is we want to make music that’s powerful, I want to make music that’s powerful, but then I also want to have a stable emotional life, not get too high, not get too low. So I don’t really have a good answer for that, but I recognize the pitfall in my life. 

Allie: Yeah, that’s so interesting. It makes the music, whatever song you’re working on, sound like its own human to me. 

John and David: Yeah.

Allie: You see all the good parts and all the bad parts. 

John: I was just talking with someone we had been working with that had been sort of offended or hurt by us deleting something. They worked on something, and then we deleted it, and we didn’t even realize, we were like, “Oh, this isn’t quite the right thing,” deleted it, and then it was kind of hurtful to her. And we ended up having this whole discussion about how in my creative life, and in every creative life, the most vulnerable thing about it is you spend all this time, and you discover an idea, maybe its a visual idea, a musical idea, whatever creative idea, and then say you’re working on a film score, working for a client, or whatever, you offer this baby up to them, and oftentimes, you’ll get a response like, “Eh, no. It needs something else, try something else.” Or, “Oh that didn’t really move me.” And you’re like, “It didn’t move you. That’s my baby we’re talking about. That’s my last -- how many hours, how many days?” It’s like, “I was just weeping over that. What the hell are you talking about?”

(laughter)

And learning how to separate yourself, because for me, there’s also this element with creativity where to get to a good idea, you often have to get through a lot of ideas that aren’t that good. But you never would have gotten to that good idea unless you actually took the pathway of these four ideas that led to each other, and all of them end up getting deleted, but they lead you to the fifth idea, which is this incredible song, and you have to be willing to have all this dead stuff you loved as part of that process.

Allie: Yeah.

A lot of times in the West, in America, we tend to think through a Cartesian model of thinking, like, “I think therefore I am,” and it’s only about myself. Our starting point is, to be fully human is always to be a relational being. And we’re always connected to the other. In certain traditions and in certain upbringings, for instance in South Africa, you have the word “ubuntu,” which means “if you are not well, I am not well.” And our connectedness to each other and to the earth and to all of the cosmos. And so part of our band’s ethos is art that inspires empathy. Empathy towards the other will always lead to empathy back toward yourself. Because it’s connected.

David: And I think that the most difficult thing about being a person that’s creative, and maybe this will play into relationship ideas as well, but ideas on one hand, we give them human traits, because they come from us, which is awesome. But our ideas are not us. And the reason why I think that’s important, is just like John was saying, if you throw out an idea, and someone for whatever reason rejects it, even if they’re not rejecting it because it’s bad, but just it doesn’t work right now, sometimes we feel like, “You reject my idea, you reject me.” And that’s back to that thing of, whatever your thoughts are, they’re not just you. So you have to be able, in a creative relationship, to have enough humility. And especially in a working environment, your talents and your ego -- I’ve heard this before from my dad, where he’s like, “Your ego is like your fingernails, where if it goes unchecked, it gets really gnarly. (laughter) And on one hand it's good to have some fingernails, you don’t want to have no ego. You want to have some self confidence, you want to have some sense of, “I’m worth this.” But if it goes unchecked, it gets gnarly. If you’re working with people who, [in response to] “Hey, what about this?” are just like, “You’re an idiot. You don’t know. My idea is the right idea, always.” And that’s where I’m like, there's some type of balancing act. It comes out of you, and there is an emotion, there is a baby nature of it because it comes out of you. But it’s also not just you. You are more than just your idea. 

Allie: Yeah, that makes sense. And that makes me wonder, because I know you two have been creating music together for a long time. I’m curious how you have navigated that process of creation together. What’s your collaboration like, and what is it like to go through that process with someone else? How is it for you, experiencing the creation of something that takes on a life of its own, and then sharing in the refining of that with someone else?

David: I think it's very much like any other friendship or relationship or work relationship. John and I have been friends our entire lives, since diapers, we have pictures of us doing stuff. And it’s a friendship that transcends the work relationship. Within the work relationship, we believe and love each other, but also can be honest with one another. And there have been hard times, but it’s also one of those things like in  any relationship, there needs to be communication. Sometimes we have a hard time working together, [due to] my bad communication or a misunderstanding, or not being able to talk about things. But [we also work on] fostering and encouraging what you’re good at, and knowing when to limit. So for instance, we’ve always worked from afar. And one of the things is I have to learn how to edit better in Pro Tools so that when I send John something, it's not a hot mess. And when he is honest and communicates about it in a kind way, it’s like “Oh, I really need to take time in this.” But sometimes it’d be like any other relationship where it’s “Oh, this was bad,” and “I worked so hard on this, it’s bad?!” 

John: You want me to pick up your laundry man?! You want me to pick up your laundry for you? 

David: Exactly. 

(laughter)

David: And that’s where it's like any relationship, and in any work relationship, there’s gonna be tensions, but I feel like learning how to fight well, learning how to communicate well, learning how to trust each other, encourage each other. Learning how to bring out what you do and your weaknesses and actually try to address those weaknesses. But if you ask, “Well what's the bedrock in that?” It’s our friendship! And it doesn’t have to be the only thing that defines our whole life. If John’s only thing is this friendship from a musical side of things, or a life side of things, that would be too much dependence. So there has to be a healthy independence and also a healthy [dependence]. 

Allie: Yeah, I like that. 

John: I guess the only thing I would say is any song, any album, any project is the amalgamation of hundreds of creative decisions. And so it's really important for me, whatever I can give room, where there is a creative decision I don't feel strongly about or I’m not ready to die on that hill, leave room for your collaborators to express themselves, to offer their best ideas. Like “Oh, I didn't think of that,” Or, “Oh, that’s different than what I thought, but that works!” As much as I possibly can, I am leaving space to that, so that when I get to things that are like, “This has to be, it has to be this, [for me]” it can have some weight. Because it’s really easy, especially coming from a classically trained background, there is this desire, or there is this myth that goes around about the creative genius: this sole person who has all of these amazing ideas and is the mastermind. It can be this fantasy that you can get lost in. But any person is better if they open themselves up for collaboration and editing. There is going to be improvement if you can get outside of yourself. 

Allie: Yeah. Oh that’s so interesting. I could see the draw of that kind of fantasy though, because it seems like it would feel reassuring in the process of all the vulnerability of trying to create something. 

John: Right.

Allie: Another thing I was really curious about - you spoke of the power to move emotions through music and how we start out having a bodily experience of that even before our brain can catch up with it - how do you think about the elements of music and how that impacts humans? Like beat, or I know you included a lot of orchestral elements in your most recent album. What are your thoughts on that? 

John: We grew up in a charismatic church, and my first musical education was, to say it bluntly, how certain sounds change the temperature of the room, and certain sounds can derive certain emotions. So if the pastor was talking about a certain thing, or there is a certain type of prayer meeting going on, one of [my first lessons] in musical education was how music, how certain sounds affect people. But then it was later on that I learned technique and theory and history, but yeah the first thing for me was learning how to manipulate people with music. 

David: My brothers are also both into this. And John is more educated than me on music, so I think he would be able to say it better. But there are ideas of chakras in music, where you hear a frequency, and it affects your body differently. And it is funny because, I don’t know how backed it is by science at all, it might be all pseudoscience, but it’s funny like when you hear a normal A, when someone is tuning, when they hit 440 Hz is an American A. But then you go to certain places and they do it differently. Right now in New York, some people tune to 441 Hz, which means it’s like a little bit more sharp, and it seems a little more intense, while in other music, the A, would be like 432 Hz or something. Which is a little more like chill and it affects you differently.

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Allie: Oh, wow! 

John: What’s weird is if you go on YouTube and you search 432 Hz vs 440 Hz patterns, you can see in sand and in water that 432 Hz frequencies (so tuned down a little bit) actually create way more stable looking geometrical shapes in matter. Which is, I don't know what to say about that!

David: So, there are theories then on, I mean John would know this better - John, what have they traditionally said is like the saddest key? Or the saddest chord? 

John: I mean I guess it depends on your perspective. Different composers had [different thoughts], like E flat would be heroic and I think C minor might be the most tragic

(laughter)

David: Which I mean, on one end that is totally subjective, but on another end it is funny that in a way music really does move you bodily. It's an actual physical reaction.  

Allie: That’s intriguing, I love hearing your thoughts on that. Is that something that you take into account as you create different pieces? Or is it more of an intuitive process for you?

David: John how would you respond to that?

John: Would we take into account how it affects people? 

Allie: Yeah, different elements and how that affects people. 

John: I mean, I don’t know how to get anyone to listen to something let alone connect with it. But the idea comes and I’m moved by the idea, then the challenge is, how can I package this idea so there is the least amount of barrier between that idea and the people who listen to it. I find that probably most of the time, I end up getting in my own way of trying to deliver an idea. Like, maybe if I put these sprinkles on top, or I add some extra gravy, it will get down the hatch, get someone to like this idea. And it can easily be overdone. 

Allie: What is most meaningful or rewarding to you in the process of creating music right now. 

David: We’ve had stories -- there’s a person whose wife was giving birth, and the child was born not breathing. And he was totally shocked, the room was totally silent, the doctors and nurses were working on this baby, and then one of our songs from our first album came up, Breathe. And the baby breathed. And for them it was this incredibly emotional moment. 

John: There’s this big long dramatic intro, and then the first lyric is breathe. And the baby breathes.

David: So for him, that song is connected to probably his most traumatic moment but also his most intense moment of life. And there are other stories. A lot of times it’s people getting through sadness. I mean there’s some joy and there’s a lot of sadness, where people have lost loved ones or children and our music has meant a lot to them in those times. Or maybe they’ve been dealing with existential anxiety or loss of faith, or different things, where the music has gotten them through something. And that’s where you’re like, “This is so much bigger than us.” Because through the person who is engaging the music, it takes on a life of its own, and it moves from being just an idea. When it’s shared, now it really does have a life. And that life doesn’t just belong to us. And that’s where we find the most meaningful things: different stories of people engaging with the music, and it's so much bigger than us. John what would you say?

John: That is a big part, a huge gift. And our conception for making music as The Brilliance has always been: it comes from us it comes from our hearts, but it’s always connected to something bigger. So for some people at first glance the name The Brilliance is like “Oh man, sounds like we’ve got some egos here.” But for me The Brilliance has always been about something bigger than us. So whatever it is, there’s always something bigger in play. So in our lives, we’re partnering with organizations. This fall we were on a tour with Preemptive Love who do all this work in places affected by war. And World Relief, in partnership with DACA Dreamers, and we’re often involved in a mission of some kind, and that feels amazing and also makes it feel like we have a real job and are helping people. I love that. 

But then also in my life right now, I just moved to Paris, so one of my dreams about my Paris time -- and I think this has to do with my midwestern upbringing or something, I have a hard time making music if i don't feel like I’m serving something or working, there's some kind of midwestern work ethic, like, “What is this, all about yourself? You know, you’re just sitting around tinkering around, dilly dallying? You should have a mortgage by now.” That kind of thing. (laughter)

But one goal I have, outside of The Brilliance (we have a lot of music coming up, and a lot of really beautiful stuff that I’m so excited about), I really want to make something beautiful just for the sake of it being beautiful, and not connected to any outside justification, or philosophy... just a beautiful thing. I’m gonna wander around Paris and make something pretty, because I can also do that in this world. And I feel so grateful, I don't take it lightly. So I'm pursuing that as much as I can. 

Allie: Wow. Well thank you both from the bottom of my heart. It's a real privilege for me to get to talk with you.


The Brilliancea band made up of long-time friends Jon Arndt and David Gungor, is an eclectic CCM/worship music duo who combine indie pop, folk, and classical elements. They released their official full-length debut, 'Brother,' through Integrity Music in 2015, which garnered critical acclaim, peaking at number 36 on the Billboard Christian Albums chart. 'All Is Not Lost,' the duo's much-anticipated sophomore Integrity release, arrived in 2017, this time reaching number 20 on the Christian chart and breaking into the Heatseekers chart as well. In 2018, the Brilliance turned their creative attention to politics -- specifically DACA and the plight of the undocumented DREAMers facing deportation in the U.S.


Allison (Allie) Ramsey is a Licensed Marriage and Family Therapist Therapist. Allie works with individuals on a broad range of issues, including anxiety, depression, relational challenges, faith integration, divorce, and aging. 

Playing a Different Tune

Playing a Different Tune

I love to play piano.

I remember the piano I grew up with: the ivory keys, chalky under my fingertips, and the horseshoe notch on the tip of middle C.

The piano was a phenomenal outlet.  It still is.

I don’t know if you ever play piano, but imagine this: playing piano from a place of blame. Picture yourself when you’ve just had it. You just can’t even. The world is going to crap, your dry cleaner ruined your interview suit, you’ve been audited for no good reason, your kids are being bullied, your partner did not stop doing that thing you cannot STAND...

Instead of getting stuck in the Blame Game where it’s you vs. me, how about we create space for us to carefully experience ourselves and our relationship from a different angle? How about we try a third way?

WHAT. IS. WRONG. WITH. EV-ER-Y-ONE

Piano strings trembling, box radiating, sound waves bouncing off the smooth walls, in a grand crescendo until - resolution.

Blame. As much it doesn’t feel good to blame, it feels good to blame.

Songs are beautiful in that way. You play and play all the feelings, the instrument simply listens, and you, almost always, come to some kind of resolution. All on your own.

This principle doesn't work so well in relationships. And it's one of the reasons why I love working with couples. When a couple comes into the room, it’s like opening up a piece of music.  We stumble over the notes together, we find the affect, we determine the cadence, and before we know it, we’re in a full blown situation where the couple is enacting the very issue they are coming to see me for. And much of the time what they’re coming to see me for involves blame.

Hard blame. The fiery hot blame that spews steam from our ears.  The ninja-quiet blame that sneaks up and cuts us open, so quickly you question if it actually happened. The pedestal blame that points a finger from an ideological monument and leaves us feeling small.  Sometimes, it even feels better to blame ourselves and crumple into shame than it does to walk through the pain.

Listen. We all do it. It just looks differently.

A couple comes in with a song, a way of desperately trying to connect to one another, and the song often does not sound the way they want it to.

WHAT. IS. WRONG. WITH MY. PART-NER.

or

what.is.wrong.with.me?

are usually the songs that gets sung.

It’s either you or me. I get it. It feels good to find the cause of something painful.  Blame perpetually hunts for a culprit, where it can give birth to contempt, shame, and moral superiority. And when Baby Contempt is born, the research shows the relationship is in trouble: a roll of the eyes, a scoff of disgust, a correction of a person’s grammar, a questioning of a person’s upbringing...

Blame closes down the conversation. It darkens our vision of what is actually going on between us. It prevents us from taking ownership of our own stuff.  It turns a dialogue between two fleshy humans into an assailment towards an inanimate object.

Our goal is to open, loosen, and lighten what is going on inside of us and between us. Instead of getting stuck in the Blame Game where it’s you vs. me, how about we create space for us to carefully experience ourselves and our relationship from a different angle?  How about we try a third way?

When we step outside the Blame Game and into dialogue, we develop stronger empathy and personal responsibility. We stumble along until we meet a safe kind of humor and laugh with the parts of ourselves that got us so riled up in the first place. Instead of performing a solo rage onto the smooth, hard keys of a piano, we find ourselves in an authentic duet: giving and taking, listening and speaking, back and forth, two fleshy humans singing together the song of connection.


Lauren Masopust, MS, MFT Intern has extensive experience working with young adults, adolescents, and couples, and specializes in areas of trauma, identity development, and multicultural issues.

 

Hometown Poet: Brandon Jordan Brown

Hometown Poet: Brandon Jordan Brown

As a therapist, I am used to connecting with the experience of the other through words. Listening, empathizing, exploring, connecting. It is a humbling and honoring experience to be let into the psyche of another through their story. The beauty of words is that they do not have to be spoken to land with another person.  Brandon Jordan Brown utilizes the artistic expression of words to not only connect with the other but to help them connect to themselves. Here he reminds us of the beauty of poetry and how it can be used to draw us closer to the human experience. -Janie McGlasson, MFT Intern

JM: Why is art/creativity important?

BJB: There is something about when you interact with it...it forces you to slow down….It pulls you in inward and it pulls you outward...And I think that if you are open to it- and you have to be really open to it- it forces you to confront things that you don't want to or to celebrate things that we forget are worth celebrating. That’s the weird thing about it. Every element or every response that art evokes almost has an equal and opposite response.  It is capable of either/or, both/and, almost simultaneously…I can tell you as someone who practices it, it is terrifying. It makes you feel very vulnerable and brings up all your fears. But I’m sure we will get into that more with upcoming questions.

JM: You’re right, we definitely will. Let’s get vulnerable.

...Poetry is a way for me to really wrestle and grapple with my experience and to feel validated as a human being.
— Brandon Jordan Brown

JM: Why did you choose poetry as your art form?

BJB: ...What is so compelling about poetry that I am learning...that it is almost like experiential theology or human-centered in a way that religion can be afraid to be….I think that poetry is a way for me to really wrestle and grapple with my experience and to feel validated as a human being.

JM: We have been talking a lot about vulnerability at MHT...the impact that it has on our relationships, work, day to day life, etc.  Do you see vulnerability playing a part in your poetry?

BJB: 100%. In a scary way. Almost to where I have written poems and sent them out and had...doesn’t Brene Brown call them vulnerability hangovers?... I haven’t figured out how to balance that. Poetry is a craft. It is different than a diary in that it takes revision and editing to create this piece of art.  So when it does connect it has the biggest chance for success.

JM: When it does connect with you?

BJB: When it connects with other people. You want to figure out a way to break open language and find a fresh way to describe something so that a person will feel like they are seeing or feeling it in a new way.  And so, it is hard to figure out the balance of being raw and vulnerable in making art and still to be healthy. I haven’t quite figured it out yet.  

There will be things I write and think “Oh that is too honest”...a moment of pure openness.  And I think there are moments when I feel really ready for that. Brave and able and courageous. Confident enough in myself that even if someone says “Wow, that is really intense” I could reply with just “Yeah, life is intense man. Deal with it.”  And in other times I think that if someone were to say that to me I would crawl behind the couch and not be able to write for a while...Maybe the biggest fear is showing people your wounds. That is really when it opens something up is when you say “this is where it hurts.”

JM: You know, that’s actually something that came up in the last interview. Debbie Edgar talked about this level where you have to find safe people to open up with. Sometimes we choose poorly where a person shows you that “oh, okay I should not have shared so much.” But this is a different form of that because it is not so simple as you just having a raw conversation with a person that you have deemed safe-you are opening yourself up to a lot of people, not knowing who will be a safe recipient and who will not.

BJB:  Yeah exactly. And not that you have to be published or be out there to be serious- but, for me, that is a goal that I have- to put my work into the world…The whole goal is for it to be ingested by others and for them to interact with it.  So when I am feeling healthy, I feel like I am in the role of challenging people to think things through and wrestle with them. To shake and wake them up and open up the space for those kinds of conversations. But when I am not feeling safe, for whatever reason, I can feel that moment that Debbie was talking about of that “oh no.”

My Father's Father's Bones by Brandon Jordan Brown

JM: How do you find that poetry connects you to yourself?

BJB: What I have found in being from the South- growing up where and how I did- there is a strong literary tradition that has a certain flavor to it...that I resonate with.  

... It is almost like that person is leading you to a doorway and opening it up and maybe even standing there with you. Helping to open up a space inside of yourself. I think that we all have blindspots. That is one of the things about writing poetry- you sit down and you write to figure out what you actually think. You don’t necessarily sit down with an idea and a plan of “here is point A and here is point B and this is how I am going to write it.”  But it could be a story or a phrase or a character or a scene and you just sit down and as you start writing it feels mysterious how you even get to the end. It is like walking down a trail and just figuring out where it leads. You may have a scrap of paper or a fragment of a map but you just kind of guess and go somewhere. It brings about a lot of trust in yourself.

JM: How do you find that it connects you to others?

BJB: Writing and being an artist can be really lonely...It is not like I am in a band and can show up to practice and just be one part, it is all on me. So for it to be put out into the world and published it gives you faith that it matters.  

The trick is that people have to be willing to slow down. It is almost as if you have to develop a discipline to sit with things. You have to make yourself slow down to be able to appreciate beautiful things....It’s must easier to watch 6 episodes of a show on Netflix than it is to sit with a book and slowly savor a poem and engage your mind and imagination. It is like prayer or meditation that you have to practice. Both of those things I am also not good at. I really admire people who aren’t even artist but have that “thing” in them to be able to quickly go there because they so easily remember that art is so life-giving and can be what they need. Whatever you’re feeling there is a poem for that or a song for that. It connects us back with our experience and with the experience of the person who made it.

JM: What ways, if any, does psychology or therapy play a part in your poetry?

BJB: I am actively engaged in therapy. My poetry comes up a lot even in talking in therapy. Art comes from our lived experience. So just like therapy helps us process our unique lived experience, art does the same thing. It is a way to explore how we make meaning of what is happening all around us- inside of us, outside of us...To sum it up, I think that they both teach us how to be human. And that maybe that's not a bad place to start….Us as real people with bodies that fail us. I’m interested in art that approaches our shortcomings and in therapy we have to do the same. You have to walk towards failure and learn how to smile at it. I think you could write a whole book on that subject. You should write that.

Art comes from our lived experience. So just like therapy helps us process our unique lived experience, art does the same thing.
— Brandon Jordan Brown

JM: You’re the writer, man.

BJB: Okay, we should write it then.

JM: Alright deal. Let’s do it. Okay, who are some of your favorites and why?

BJB: Easy. The best living poet is a guy named Maurice Manning...He writes a lot about his rural upbringing, his childhood. For me, I have such a love and fondness for where I came from but also have to look back at how it made me and kind of sort through it. It’s like sorting through an entire world- and he does a good job at that. At holding up his memories and the pieces of his life in this fantastic Kentucky place and having such compassion for it.

Brandon Jordan Brown, LA based Poet

Another guy is Phillip Levine who just recently died last year.  He was a US Poet Laureate and was from Detroit. He is from working class, hard living, blue collar Detroit. And again, he had a love for a place and a people and was able to reckon with hardships and face pain head on.

JM: Do you have a mantra to get you into your creative space or to move you out of a block?

BJB: I just put a note on my computer that just says “Be Brave.”...I think when you take the risk and you are in a good state of mind it feels worth it.  When you have that person that memorizes a poem of yours or a piece of yours lands with someone and you think, “oh man i'm glad i said it because it helped someone.”

JM: What is your favorite word?

BJB: “Maybe.” I think as a writer and as an artist it opens up a lot of space.

Brandon Jordan Brown is a former PEN Center USA Emerging Voices Fellow in poetry, was recently nominated for a Pushcart Prize, and his work has been published or is forthcoming in Forklift, Ohio; Day One; decomP; Rufous City Review; Cultural Weekly and more. Brandon reviews poetry for Invisible City and lives in Los Angeles, where he is working on his first book. You can find him at www.brandonjordanbrown.com


Janie McGlasson, MFT Intern, has worked in both a community mental health setting as well as private practice and specializes in the areas of attachment, grief and loss, and trauma.