Andrea Gibson, the acclaimed poet and performance artist, whose works bravely tackled themes of gender identity, political landscapes, and a four-year struggle with terminal ovarian cancer, passed away on Monday at the age of 49.
The news of Gibson's passing was shared by their wife, Megan Falley, on social media. Both Gibson and Falley are central figures in the documentary 'Come See Me in the Good Light,' a film that recently received the Festival Favorite Award at the Sundance Film Festival and is slated for an Apple TV+ release this autumn. The announcement stated that Gibson departed peacefully at their Boulder, Colorado residence, surrounded by their wife, former partners, parents, numerous friends, and their cherished canine companions.
Directed by Ryan White, 'Come See Me in the Good Light' beautifully portrays the enduring bond between Gibson and Falley amidst Gibson's fight against cancer. The film features an original composition co-written by Gibson, Sara Bareilles, and Brandi Carlile. During a January screening at Sundance, Gibson had expressed doubts about living long enough to witness the film's public release.
Following the announcement, an outpouring of tributes from friends, admirers, and fellow poets highlighted Gibson's profound impact. Many LGBTQ+ individuals shared how Gibson's verses helped them embrace self-acceptance. Those battling cancer and other terminal illnesses found comfort in Gibson's perspectives on mortality, which emphasized a spiritual continuity beyond physical existence.
In a poignant poem penned shortly before their death, titled 'Love Letter from the Afterlife,' Gibson articulated a powerful vision: \"Dying is the opposite of leaving. When I left my body, I did not go away. That portal of light was not a portal to elsewhere, but a portal to here. I am more here than I ever was before.\"
Linda Williams Stay recounted the transformative experience of attending a Gibson performance in San Francisco with her son, Aiden, a decade prior. Gibson's dynamic poetry, which evoked both laughter and tears, became a shared passion for the mother and son, and later, a bridge to understanding when Aiden came out as transgender. Stay tearfully recalled her son's heartfelt words, \"Mom, Andrea saved my life,\" a sentiment she deeply echoed.
Gibson's poetry later provided solace to Stay during her own cancer diagnosis, prompting her son's return home to St. George, Utah, to care for her. They were overjoyed when Gibson agreed to perform at an LGBTQ+ community event in southern Utah. Stay reflected on the event's profound significance, expressing hope that Gibson recognized the immense hope they instilled in queer youth within small communities.
Born in Maine, Gibson relocated to Colorado in the late 1990s, where they served as the state's poet laureate for the past two years. Their notable literary works include 'You Better Be Lightning,' 'Take Me With You,' and 'Lord of the Butterflies.'
Colorado Governor Jared Polis praised Gibson as \"truly one of a kind,\" acknowledging their exceptional ability to connect with Colorado's diverse poetry enthusiasts.
In a 2017 essay for 'Out' magazine, Gibson shared their experience of coming out as genderqueer at 20 while attending Saint Joseph's College of Maine, a Catholic institution. They famously quoted a line from their own poetry: \"I am happiest on the road/ When I'm not here or there — but in-between,\" encapsulating their fluid sense of self.
Comedian Tig Notaro, an executive producer on the documentary and a friend of Gibson's for 25 years, recalled their early performing days in Colorado. Notaro described Gibson's initial performances as witnessing the \"pure essence of an old-school genuine rock star,\" whose words have remained a guiding force in her life. Notaro described Gibson's final days as both profoundly painful and incredibly beautiful, observing the raw human connection that emerged from devastating loss, a gift she finds hard to articulate.
Gibson's illness became a wellspring for numerous poems exploring mortality, depression, life, and the great unknown. In their 2021 poem, \"How the Worst Day of My Life Became My Best,\" Gibson proclaimed, \"When I realized the storm/was inevitable, I made it/my medicine.\" Two years later, they pondered, \"Will the afterlife be harder if I remember/the people I love, or forget them?\" The poem concludes with a tender plea: \"Either way, please let me remember.\"