A few nights ago, my wife came into my office while I was writing and asked me who I was listening to.
“David Lynch.”
“He made music?”
He certainly did.
I’ve had a playlist with a bunch of his music on it for a while now. When I’m writing creepy stuff (usually not editing), I put it on in the background and just let it roll.
To me, David Lynch was never Blue Velvet or Dune. He was Mr. Twin Peaks.
One of my best friends from high school went to M.I.T. while I went to Emerson College, across the Charles. I remember going over to his dorm, and we all watched this new show about a murdered high school girl in a small town in the Pacific Northwest. I was mesmerized, as was most of the country.
Spoiler alert if you haven’t seen Twin Peaks — skip the next paragraph.
It was the first television show that I ever got completely absorbed in. When Madeline was murdered in one of the most brutal scenes I had ever seen on TV (I was totally unprepared to see something like that on network television), I sat down at my electric keyboard and started playing a rambling, sad piece. Later that summer I recorded a rainstorm out my bedroom window and set the music to it. It’s called “For Madeline…”
I first went to see the Twin Peaks movie with a bunch of coworkers at CMJ. I’m not sure why we had all decided to go see it — we weren’t the types that would go to see films together. This was a special event. I think we were probably all wondering what a Twin Peaks film might look like. What would Lynch do with these characters and this story when let loose?
I might be wrong, but I think I was the only one who wasn’t disappointed. It was a total gut punch. A story of abuse, suffering, redemption, all told in Lynch’s mysterious and dreamy cinematic style.
By now, I’ve seen most of his other films. I still haven’t seen Eraserhead. I need to fix that.
I loved The Straight Story, and Wild at Heart.
And when Showtime announced a third season of Twin Peaks, I celebrated like everyone else and was grateful the execs eventually gave him the budget he wanted.
I still remember seeing Episode Eight for the first time. I haven’t watched it since, but I think it’s time for a full season repeat, and now that I finally have an OLED television, I’m going to savor every moment of that episode. A few years ago, I bought the Twin Peaks: Z to A set, which has that and one other episode in 4K, and which is getting a re-release next month.
A still from Twin Peaks: The Return, Episode 8
It was only years later I discovered his discussions about art and consciousness.
When I heard that he had emphysema and had likely made his last film, I felt the same way I felt when I heard Linda Rondstadt couldn’t sing anymore. I know he found other ways to be creative. For him, it wasn’t just about film. That’s just how most of us knew him.
But even though he stopped making films, he kept living the “art life,” keeping in touch with his fans through conversations about resins, Transcendental Meditation, creativity, and even an infamous series of weather reports.
And when I got down on myself and needed a pick-me-up, this short was one of my favorites.
You had a very good heart, David. We saw the light in the darkness of the human condition you put onscreen. It was a special gift to us all.
Thank you for spending some time with us. Godspeed on your journey to your next destination, wherever it might be.
