what would do?
Ever since Andrea Gibson died, just two weeks ago this morning, this is the question my girlfriend, Diana, and I have been asking ourselves when faced with… well, life. WWAGD? It would make a great t-shirt. Or a tattoo.
I truly don’t have adequate words to honor a most brilliant wordsmith (and an even more radiant human being) as the poet Andrea Gibson. Andrea is a timeless, genderful, wise, tender prophet born in 1975 — the same year I was born, just a few months before me. I don’t think I could write a tribute that would do them justice but, like so many kindred souls on my social media feeds these weeks, I’d love to write about how Andrea Gibson affected my life.
I was later than I should have been to the Andrea Gibson party. Diana introduced me to Andrea‘s poetry when we began dating in 2019, a whole 20 years after Andrea’s spoken word poetry career began in 1999 and 11 years after they gained national recognition in 2008 when winning the first ever Womxn of the World Poetry Slam. I’ve actually been a decent poetry fan throughout my life, from attending poetry readings at coffee shops in college to collecting books by Mary Oliver and Billy Collins. Somehow, I hadn’t heard of Andrea Gibson until my queer heart was being blown open in midlife when I began living into my most authentic and expansive form. That feels fitting.
In March 2020, Andrea's live show at the Mercury Cafe in Denver was the last public place Diana and I went before the world shut down because of Covid-19. I took the photo you see at the top of this post of the sparkling room that night, just before they stepped onto the stage and just before my eyes were blurred by my heart absolutely leaking out of them. Before the show, Andrea had placed a lucky penny on every guest’s seat in the room. By the end of that show, I felt so damn lucky. So alive. So much love. Their “Right Now I Love You Forever” tour was all about love. Andrea is holy love.
The morning after that first show of theirs that I was blessed to witness, I bought all of their books. I watched all of their YouTube videos. During the pandemic, I attended their virtual Zoom concerts and took an online poetry workshop with Andrea and their amazing poet wife,
. I was fortunate to see (and bring my teenager to) Andrea’s magical show at Chautauqua in Boulder. I was awestruck by their final show at the Paramount in Denver, and I wept through the screening of their documentary Come See Me in the Good Light at the Boulder International Film Festival. (It’s coming this fall to Apple TV. A must watch for all humans on planet earth. Please promise me you will.)
Of course Andrea didn’t know it, but we were neighbors in Boulder for years. We took walks around the same lake. We attended many of the same events. We never met because I am beyond shy and awkward when starstruck, moonstruck, lightning struck. Once, when Diana and I were pulling up to this local and relatively small outdoor tribute party to see a musician-friend of ours perform, we spotted Andrea and Megan driving in behind us in our rear view mirror. I freaked out. Andrea and Megan both performed poems that day and walked around the grounds together, being adorable AF.
I was always too timid to approach them because I’m far too light sensitive to withstand the bright beauty they emitted. I was sure I’d be blinded-speechless-quaking-crying, all at once. Even so, I also know Andrea would have welcomed my bumbling, raw-hearted humanness.
If you’re not yet an Andrea Gibson fan, I implore you to watch them perform their poems on their YouTube channel and to speak to us all in their heartfelt Instagram videos. This courageously vulnerable artist left us with so many gifts that will open our hearts over and over again. Leave it to Glennon Doyle to write a gorgeous tribute to Andrea when she sent the following in her newsletter last week:
“If you are witnessing the outpouring of love to Andrea Gibson and wondering if they could have possibly been as good as people are suggesting:
They were better.
Last night before I fell asleep I was imagining the deal God and Andrea must have made before Andrea was sent to be incarnated here.
Maybe God said:
Andrea—I need them to see. Then I need them to feel.
Help them see themselves, each other and the world clearly, so they can finally feel themselves beloved on the earth. Feeling themselves and each other beloved is the whole reason they’re there. Remind them. But you won’t have long with them, Andrea. So you better be lightning.
Andrea came. And Andrea was lightning.
Andrea’s passing left me heartbroken, grateful, awestruck, more so than the death of anyone else I’d not even met. They are so missed, and they assure us below that they are more here than they ever were. Please click the image below to play this video:
They are e v e r y w h e r e. ⚡️
watching: Just finished Too Much on Netflix. Did you watch it? Thoughts?
attending: Indigo Girls and Melissa Etheridge at Red Rocks last weekend! OMG Melissa rocked so hard!
drooling over: Moroccan Beni Ourain rugs. Always
missing: my mom and sister, who just left Denver from a weekend visit
loving: new potted plants on my back deck (Thanks to my mom and sister! 💕)
⭐️ Whether you’re an unpaid or paid subscriber to prism, having a spot in your inbox is an honor I don’t take for granted. It gives my art and writing a place to breathe. Thank you.