Interview by Kyla Jamieson
Andrea Gibson is a highly quotable and influential poet at the forefront of the spoken-word movement who has headlined prestigious performance venues across the United States and abroad. Born in Calais, Maine, Gibson now resides outside Boulder, Colorado. In Take Me With You, Gibson’s new book, poems “on love,” “on the world,” and “on becoming” appear alongside line drawings by artist Sarah J. Coleman. These are poems that will sit on your heart like a gentle weight come to remind you of something you know is true. Poems you’ll text to your friends because you know they’ll read them and tell you these words were the ones they needed. Poems that show us how a poet can use language to build bridges between who they are now and who they hope to become, between the world we live in and the world they imagine for us. Take Me With You is full of insights on compassion, love, anxiety, gender, growth, and healing, but wisely sidesteps certainty; “I am so grateful,” Gibson writes, “for having a mind that can be changed.” Read on to learn why Gibson is so quotable and beloved, which word is creepiest, and how to measure success. Gibson will be in Vancouver at the St. James Hall on April 16; you can find full tour dates here. They will also be at Massy Books on April 17 for a book signing and Q&A with Molly Billows; full info here.
1. What’s happening around you—either right around you or outside of where you are?
My dog Squash is pressed so close to my elbow it’s difficult to type. She’s wearing a teal plaid shirt with the collar popped. I just ate so much chocolate my stomach is sick and I’m about to eat more chocolate. The coffee table is covered in sewing needles and thread. Every few months I sew up the holes in things that need fixing so I don’t have to have a panic attack buying new clothes at a store. I’m contemplating going outside to gather some logs for the fire but it’s the first time I’ve sat still in two months so it’s likely I’ll opt to stay chilly.
2. Why do you live where you live?
There’s a pig who lives a few blocks away named Winston. On his birthday his people leave treats outside of the fence so everyone who walks by can give him a treat. I have llama neighbors also. And directly across the road there are about 500 prairie dogs. In the summer I can bike a half mile and dive into the lake. In the winter I can watch the snow covered mountain peaks that are 14,000 feet high. There isn’t a day that I have lived here that I haven’t dreamt of building a tree house. We have five rescue animals and when I stop touring I hope to have twelve.
3. What are you looking forward to this week?
I have a show in Florida in a city where there is a dog beach. Dogs aren’t typically allowed on beaches in much of the US and I’m excited to bring Squash to the dog beach. Also it’s March Madness and I’m a huge basketball fan.
4. What advice would you give an aspiring or emerging writer?
Read as much as you can and write as often as you can and question the hell out of what “can” means to you. Don’t only write when the mood strikes you. Write when you’re not in the mood at all. Additionally—don’t measure your success by anything other than your own ever-expanding heart. Love what you’re doing and love the process of creating and be brave enough to make art that no one loves but you.
5. What’s your morning routine? How do you adapt it when you’re touring?
I wake up, shower, and am dressed and ready to leave the house or hotel within ten minutes. I’m maybe the fastest person on earth. My partner says it should be written on my gravestone, “They were efficient.” I obnoxiously pride myself on being the most efficient person I know. It does nothing to soothe my nervous system and it makes me a terrible meditator but I get shit done. After my ten minute morning routine I race to get coffee. I have to leave the house or hotel to get coffee no matter what. I have to get my face in the outside air and I have to order the coffee from a stranger, I don’t know why. It’s a thing. After coffee I spend until midday battling off the anxiety from having had caffeine. If I’m not on tour I’m likely writing all morning. If I am on tour I’m in the van listening to Democracy Now while driving to the next city.
6. Is there anything you always do before you go on stage (to prepare/ground) or after you come off stage (to recover/unwind)?
Before going on stage I always, every time, have a chat with the universe. I ask for support in being connected, honest, and brave. I also ask for the wisdom to be kind to myself no matter what comes up. It’s a vulnerable thing for anyone to do. The stage is a vulnerable place to be, and it’s not my natural element. I’m an awkward introvert with more stage fright than a single body should be able to hold.
7. What’s the first poem you remember writing, and how does it relate to your current work?
One of the first poems I remember writing was about two leaves, the last two leaves hanging onto a branch of a tree at the end autumn. One wanted to fall, and the other didn’t. The poem was their conversation. I’ve never considered how it relates to my current work but I imagine it speaks to both my terror of death and my curiosity about the next realm.
8. What are you most proud of?
I’m proud of how quickly I change. I’m proud that I have no idea who I will be in a year.
9. What’s one risk you’re glad you took?
Getting on stage for the first time even though the paper was shaking so loudly in my hands I couldn’t hear my voice over its rattle.
10. Is there any advice you like ignoring?
I ignore almost all advice about trusting or distrusting people I don’t know. I try to enter my interactions with folks open to the possibility of their wonderfulness. And I’m also willing and ready to not vibe with people other people think are incredible.
11. Do you have a favourite word? Or a least favourite word? What is it and why do you like/dislike it?
I think octopus is one of my favorite and least favorite words because octopi are rad but the word octopus is creepy as hell.
12. What quality have you worked hardest to cultivate in yourself? How does it serve you in the life you’re living?
I’ve worked really hard to cultivate active curiosity and wonder, to land in that place more times than I land in knowing and rightness and certainty. I want an expanded lens that takes in the whole of a story, that keeps me exploring and digging deeper. I’ve noticed rightness has historically shut down my learning, and I don’t ever want to stop learning.