Andrea Gibson

Meg's like, well, I'm going to go woo-woo now because the woo-woo people say there's hope.

Yes.

Yes.

You know, we have talked about it.

We have talked about it a lot.

And one of the interesting things is we talk about it in regards to writing because

she is a writer and she has always had this fear of not

writing everything that she wants to write or creating all the art that she wants to create before she dies.

And I don't have that fear at all.

And the reason is, and I guess I didn't know this until my diagnosis, but as soon as I was diagnosed, I felt like I could see and feel how energy worked.

I felt certain that there was nothing this world needs that I could take with me.

I full-heartedly believed that everything in me, the energy of any poem, would just scatter like a seed and bloom in somebody else's pen.

And I feel that anything I have to say, anything I have to give, I have full faith that's how energy works.

Like, my death would not deprive this world of anything.

People wouldn't be...

wouldn't know it was coming from me.

Like I think I'm sitting here with this, I'm sitting here with this thing of thimbles, which is my grandma Faye's thimble collection that I inherited when she died.

And when she died, I would put these symbols, like 10 of them on my fingers and type poems.

And we were making art together.

And I think almost all art is made by the dead and we don't know it.