satiated + craving
yes y'all, another post about andrea gibson
If you’ve ever sat in the upper rows at almost any large venue, you know the drill: You find yourself watching the screens for close-ups and occasionally you look down at the stage where the artist is a tiny, far away speck of a human. About a week ago, alongside 10,000 other tender-hearted folks, I watched Andrea Gibson (rockstar prophet poet) on the big screens at Red Rocks Amphitheater. It was a screening of Andrea’s final live poetry performance filmed at Denver’s Paramount Theater in May 2024. Andrea passed one year ago tomorrow morning, July 14, 2025. But multiple times at Red Rocks last Sunday, I looked down from the screens, honestly expecting to see them center stage at the mic — sporting their rad haircut, black jeans, and legendary boots. Their presence and voice were so vivid, so striking, that I kept looking for them, forgetting they weren’t there with us in body.
Andrea Gibson somehow “sold out Red Rocks from another dimension” (as Sara Bareilles put it). Diana and I attended this celebration of life with about fifteen of our friends, plus the other 9,985 kindreds sitting on those rocks. As we love to do at Red Rocks, we tailgated in the lot beforehand with a sprawling picnic of queer and allied community.
We all made our way into the venue together to witness Chris Pureka (a talented musician and one of Andrea’s dear friends) and the stunning Sara Bareilles perform. The Colorado Symphony played live alongside Andrea performing their poetry on screen. The film we saw last week is not to be confused with the epic, Oscar-nominated documentary about Andrea’s last years of life, Come See Me in the Good Light (which you can stream now on Apple TV.) I truly hope there will also be a way to stream this live performance film soon, too, because hearing their poetry directly from their heart and larynx is a holy experience.
A highlight of the night for me was hearing Chris Pureka perform a song they composed to accompany Andrea’s words for Megan. Megan explained that as Andrea was actively dying and no longer able to communicate with words, Chris texted this song to Megan. Megan said that as she played it in the room, it looked as though a smile came across Andrea’s face. One of my favorite lyrics from this song is “I’ll circle back honey. When they lay me down, I’ll hit the ground running back to you.”
It was one of the most powerful experiences of grief being held in community and an honoring of life and love and beauty and awe. The film was titled after the final poem Andrea wrote for megan falley just before their death: Love Letter from the Afterlife. To close out the event, Megan recited the poem aloud for us all. Click below to watch:
It’s heartening that Andrea Gibson’s reach is still growing, and they are still showing whole generations that being kind, grateful, jaw-dropped, and queer is a gorgeous way to move through this life. I didn’t have access that kind of representation when I was young, but I’m so fortunate to have found it later in life. I feel so relieved for every gay and trans kid who gets this sort of warm, validating, life-saving hug sooner, even as the ignorant backlash against them grows louder.
A gathering like this both satiates me and makes me hungrier at the same time. (Is that an enneagram type four statement or what? Sighhh.) Sitting beside ten thousand open-hearted people is an absolute miracle and a hopeful blessing. It lasted one evening, and then we all drove home under a glorious, red, rising half-moon. I am left longing for queer community that fits around a dinner table or a cozy fire pit every Sunday night. A community that’s intentional and ongoing… where my identity is mirrored, isn’t secondary, and doesn’t require explanation.
That longing for deeply connected spaces is a lot of why I do the work I do. Very soon, I’ll be opening applications for my next Midlife Emergence group — ten weeks beginning in September of a small circle of women in midlife turning toward the truest version of their lives, together in community. (And after the 10 weeks, there are opportunities to continue to circle up with the amazing souls you meet.)
As I look forward to creating these sorts of meaningful community experiences, my heart is stirred by the feeling at Red Rocks that evening. I even watched Come See Me in the Good Light (yet again) on a flight back from the east coast last Thursday to savor Andrea’s wisdom. They inspire me to “[tear] the caution tape off my life and let everything touch it.” (a brilliant line from this poem.)
Yes, please. Open. Feel. Open. Feel. Open. What else are we here to do?
listening to: my kid turned me onto the new Olivia Rodrigo album
seeking: a couple large pieces of art (preferably supporting queer artists) for some still-blank and prominent walls in our home
trying to figure out: my viral load, my inflammation cycle, my migraines… ongoing mysterious health stuff that isn’t loving the heat of the summer
grateful for: super-generous friends who help with landscaping tasks I can’t do
excited about: scattering drought-tolerant wildflower seeds to see what grows
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What a beautiful experience. I've never been to Red Rock, but it's on my bucket list. Now I moved it a little higher. xoxo
That was one of those powerful performance nights where just being there and experiencing what you experienced is the most incredible gift. I had never heard of Red Rock before (having lived on the East Coast as I have for the past all of my life), but now it’s come up multiple times just this year, so clearly I need to hop on over to Red Rock on my own North American tour! Thanks for sharing your experience.♥️🌈🥳