The End: Finishing My Book and Rediscovering Humanity Through Music
Author's Note
Yesterday, for the fourth time since I dedicated myself to becoming an author, I wrote the words that never fail to bring about a wave of emotional release: The End…This time, it marked the completion of my new book, AI Ink: Writing, Publishing, and Misinformation at the Dawn of the AI Age.
Yes, the book has been on presale at major retailers for weeks now—a fact that’s been both exhilarating and nerve-wracking. Let me tell you, there’s no pressure quite like knowing your work is already out there, being marketed and sold, while you’re still sweating blood over getting it just right.
For now, I’m giving myself a day or two to breathe before diving back in. My plan is to print out and spiral-bind a couple of hard copies for review, so I can go through them with a red pen and a meticulous eye. The finished manuscript is officially due on Thanksgiving, but I’m planning to email my editor with what I have so far and beg for an extension through the following week. I think she’ll go for it—she’s told me she believes in my work, and I’m hopeful she really does.
With the stress of the election easing and the book nearing completion, I finally had a chance to reconnect with something outside the grind. This past weekend, I went to Denver for a night to catch a show and interview the band Bear Hands. The experience reminded me of the power of music to help us rediscover our humanity—a theme I explored in my piece, which I’d like to share with you here.
Also, like many writers over the past week, I’ve made the move from Twitter—not that I ever had much of a presence there. I’m now on BlueSky and loving the fresh start it offers. If you’re on there too, I’d love for you to follow me! Let’s build something new together. You can find me by searching for @jasonvantat.bsky.social.
How are you reconnecting with your humanity after the fear and loathing of our recent election season?
This piece was originally published by the Trail-Gazette. Please click the link and pretend you first read it there—it helps me out over at the paper.
Edge of Insight - Rediscovering Our Humanity in the Echo of Music and Connection
By Jason Van Tatenhove
With the election finally in our collective rearview mirror, we’re left with space to ask ourselves: What have we done to ourselves, to our communities, to what our places might be in this brave new America? I find myself craving a reminder of what it means to be human beyond the daily grind of political battles. There’s a deep need to reconnect with something richer, something untouched by division. For most of us, our political dramas ultimately do little to define who we are or the lives we choose to live with the time we have. Whatever reason we’re blessed with this one chance to live—right here, right now, on this speck of rock hurtling through the cosmos at unimaginable speeds—I don’t think our political battles will ever get us closer to the big existential questions that matter most. Why are we here? How can we find meaning? And how can we connect with one another across our differences?
It’s time to get back to our human experience and fill it with the things that bring us joy and connection before we no longer can.
Standing in a sea of strangers at Meow Wolf this Saturday night, I felt that very pull. With its surreal, immersive-glowing walls, the venue set the perfect atmosphere for something intimate and electric. I was there to see Bear Hands, a band that, after some time away from the stage, returned with a powerful reminder of what it means to create and to connect. I had the chance to sit down with Dylan Rau, Bear Hands’ lead singer and songwriter, before the show, and in our conversation, I was transported—not only back to the early days of my own journey into music journalism, but also to a place where resilience, unity, and shared experience still hold sway.
This album is also something special to me. It was the first piece of music I connected with on my own, since the death of my wife. For me, it almost symbolizes finding myself again—a rebirth into a new life, with new people and new music. It’s a fresh start that, though bittersweet, reminds me of the power of art to help us process and move forward.
Bear Hands’ music that night pulsed through the walls with an energy that felt almost therapeutic. Art, in this moment, was a shared language, one that allowed everyone in the room to transcend daily struggles and tap into something politics will never touch. Their latest album, The Key to What, was produced in a time of isolation, and yet it brings listeners back to the most basic connection—the connection with our shared human experience. It’s a record marked by themes of substance use, personal reflection, and the often-messy journey of simply being alive.
In our interview, Dylan shared that songwriting, for him, is a form of self-therapy. He opened up about the challenges of working on the new album during the pandemic. “I’d just moved to Oregon,” he explained, “and it was isolating in a way that I hadn’t experienced before.” Songs were crafted over email, pieced together with the band on the East Coast and producer Elliot Colz, known for his work with Lizzo, on the production end. The collaborative process itself became a metaphor for the broader disconnection so many of us felt over the last few years.
The track “Floor It,” one of the oldest songs on the album, was inspired by road trips with his cat, Billy. “We didn’t take many real road trips,” Dylan admitted, laughing. “Billy wouldn’t have put up with it—he’d crawl all over the car after fifteen minutes. But it was the image that stuck, something simple and a little chaotic.” The song captures the idea of forward motion in a time when moving forward felt difficult, echoing the restlessness that so many of us feel when faced with the uncertainties of life.
The album also dives deeply into themes of substance use, especially in tracks like “Adderall / Ambien.” Dylan didn’t shy away from talking about his own history with addiction. “I consider myself an ex-junkie,” he shared candidly. “Drugs shaped most of my adult life, and while I’m in a better place now, I’m still fascinated by the culture and the emotional drama of it all. There’s a lot to unpack there, and it fuels the lyrics in a way that’s honest, even if it’s not always comfortable.” His honesty resonated with me, too. I know the complexities of addiction and the impact it can have on one’s life.
When I asked if he ever worried about how younger fans might interpret these themes, Dylan paused thoughtfully. “I know it could impact someone out there, but I don’t feel like it’s my responsibility to edit what I’m expressing. Writing is therapeutic for me, and I have to let it reflect my own experiences. If people find something in there that resonates—if it makes them feel less alone or more understood—that’s meaningful to me.”
Maybe it’s because I’ve been feeling so vulnerable myself that his willingness to be open on stage and in his music created a powerful connection that night at Meow Wolf. As the audience sang along, swaying and moving together, it became clear that while politics might shape parts of our world, it’s music and art that shape our souls. With its raw energy and emotional weight, the live performance felt like a much-needed balm—a reminder of the human connections that exist beneath the surface of our political identities. Music like Bear Hands’ doesn’t just tell stories; it invites us to see our own stories reflected back.
When I left Meow Wolf that night, the music still echoing in my mind, I felt more human, more connected than I had in weeks. Friends who saw the pictures of the event I shared on social media commented that I genuinely looked happy—I was…And it made me wonder, what would our communities look like if we spent more time like this—immersed in shared experiences that remind us of our humanity? Imagine a world where we sought out art, music, and conversation to bring us together, instead of letting political lines divide us.
Life, after all, is more than the sum of our political choices. It’s about finding moments of connection and meaning that transcend the ballot box, that speak to the core of what it means to be alive. At a Bear Hands concert, surrounded by strangers who, for one night, were united by the same beat, I felt that truth more than ever.
So, as we step out of the election cycle and into whatever comes next, we should find time to reconnect with our communities, engage with art, listen to music, and remember that our lives are made up of more than headlines and political affiliations. We need to seek out spaces where we can just be and rediscover our humanity in the echo of music and connection.
If you haven’t yet experienced Meow Wolf’s intimate and visceral live music venue, you really should. See which bands you connect with are playing there soon and catch a show. It did my soul good, and it is now one of my favorite places to experience live music.
