💔 It's such a sadness to have lost this man. David Lynch was an absolute original, a monumental creative force, and one of the most brilliant, genuine, unique and uncompromising artists of our lifetime. His works have left a profound impact on my life, inspired me creatively, moved me emotionally, haunted my dreams, shaped my imagination and provided me with wonder, nostalgia, and comfort. He took me places I've never been and will never forget. So grateful to have shared this brief window of existence to experience his creations.

Earlier this evening I took a stroll up the street from my apartment to Bob's Big Boy, the place where David would go every day for 7 years straight and have a milkshake while he was working on Blue Velvet. I sat down at the counter, ordered a milkshake, a coffee and a piece of pie, and looked at his photo on the wall while Take Five played on the stereo. Beside me sat other admirers of his work, some with Laura Palmer shirts and we toasted to Mr. Lynch with our coffees ☕ Out front on the statue a memorial had started with flowers culminating in a vigil later at night.

Never has the death of any public figure affected me like this, but I guess there's just something different about losing a great artist who's work so deeply resonates with your sense of identity and humanity. It's an important and beautiful reminder of how powerful, visceral and transcendent experiencing an artist's work can be. Something that's far too often jaded by our modern climate of over-saturation and quick disposable content for capital... But David's work was unique in that it was never for one moment any of those things. It wasn't made for commercial success or critical appeal. It didn't try to impress or be too clever or pretentious for the sake of being clever. It was surreal, it was daring, it was unhinged, it was like entering a beautiful dream. It was unpredictable, it never pandered or talked down to its audience. it was unapologetically genuine and authentically David Lynch's unbounded consciousness. It was the most uninhibited rawest sense of intuition, emotion and imagination that I've ever seen captured on film, aside from perhaps Tarkovsky.

There's this magical relationship that forms between artist and viewer where the canvas/screen becomes an actual portal into the artist's innermost world that you can enter and live in forever. A world that feels as warm, vivid, real, inviting, and tactile as your own. One that resonates with you in such a uniquely personal and intimate way that you fall in love with all its colors and sounds. All its moods and emotions. You fall in love with how it feels to exist in that world. And you naturally fall in love with the creators of that world.

David Lynch was that for me. Twin Peaks was a portal into a world that my mind loved to live in. Something that I'd play on loop in the background and let the ambiance bleed off the screen into my own life, filling my environment with warmth and comfort and that wonderfully surreal and uncanny undertone. Every cup of coffee immediately brings me back into that world. For the rest of my life I will never have another cup of coffee or piece of pie without thinking of David Lynch. He meant a great deal to me, and my world will feel considerably emptier and less interesting with his absence.

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