Dark dreams
The inspiration and comfort of David Lynch
The news of David Lynch’s death last week hit me as a David Bowie moment, a Prince moment. I’m no film buff — I can count on one hand the number of directors with whom I have more than a passing familiarity — but Lynch’s work is a treasured part of my aspirational creative canon. I came to his films in my early twenties, and unlike some of the things I’ve let go of since then, he has stuck with me. I wrote a book partially inspired by Mulholland Drive; I even designed myself a tote bag featuring the catchphrase from his weather reports on KCRW.
Lynch’s work is famously surreal and intuitive, open to multiple interpretations. My own work is much more straightforward (there are few artists who are not white men who could get away with explaining as little as he does, which is not a criticism…of him at least lol). Yet I’ve spent untold hours chasing the dreamlike sense of dislocation he mastered. I’m not sure whether that’s even possible in prose — so much of his atmosphere comes through the visual language and the music, which is why the soundtracks are such favorites of mine — but I’ve tried to create work that holds darkness but contains a beating heart and a sense of humor not entirely stained by cynicism.
Despite the violence of his subject matter, Lynch seemed to take absolute joy in the act of creation. And if we had to lose this particular 78-year-old man, it was some consolation to watch my social media feeds fill up with tributes. So many people were entertained and inspired and influenced by him.
This weekend I spent some time with Lost Highway and Wild at Heart, two of Lynch’s less-feted films. Some of my favorite scenes featured the smaller moments, often side characters being quirky or irreverent (I mean, the Log Lady is my favorite Twin Peaks character after Dale Cooper, so). Prison guards and cops on stakeout making dumb jokes, their rapport as comfortable as their work shoes. Topless maids talking shit about a coworker. This attention to the humanity of his characters, no matter how brief their roles or how strange the situations in which they find themselves, is part of what makes Lynch’s work so compelling.
It’s also worth noting that, by most accounts, Lynch was an admirable human as well as a visionary.1 It feels like much too often that we’re faced with another “genius” who has used his power to perpetrate horrific acts and escape accountability,2 a reality that is both incredibly depressing and numbing in its tedium. So to see a man driven by a singular creative vision, who had exacting standards, yet treated the people around him with care and respect, is a reminder that care and respect should be the baseline expectation. Talent, no matter how great, is not a license to act like an asshole.
Weird thing I am researching
I’ve been doing a deep dive (heh) into the geological structure of north Florida; sinkholes and how human activity makes them both more likely and more destructive; and…homeowner’s insurance (riveting, I assure you).
Reading/watching/listening
The Emily of New Moon series by L.M. Montgomery
I imprinted on these books so deeply as a child. I also read and loved Anne of Green Gables et al but, as a young person with an “artistic temperament,”3 I identified much more with Emily. To the point where I also wrote shitty poetry (bless both my and Emily’s hearts, truly) that has fortunately not survived. I was prompted to a re-read by Erin Keane’s launch of the Blair Water Literary Society, a newsletter following her own revisitation of the trilogy.
Doechii’s Tiny Desk Concert
One of those performances that makes your jaw drop at the talent!! Every person in this room is having a great time and so are we.
(I’m also watching Squid Game with my teen because I need something to be horrified about that’s not the collapse of US democracy.)
A Way Forward by Nation of Language
A comfort listen that also lets me concentrate on writing or coding.
If you enjoy my ramblings, you might like my books!
The Other Me, which PopSugar called a “Black Mirror-esque rabbit hole,” is an inventive page-turner about the choices we make and the ones made for us.
When I’m Her asks the question: How far would you go to get even with the woman who ruined your life?
The Mister Rogers of psychological horror, if you will.
This is a disturbing and detailed (and credibly reported) account of Gaiman’s alleged abuses. Read with care.
TM Aunt Laura!
omg Emily of New Moon was MY SHIT when I was a kid. I even included a reference to it in LITTOSK! And as to this quote -- "I’ve tried to create work that holds darkness but contains a beating heart and a sense of humor not entirely stained by cynicism." -- I think you do that!