One Day the Sadness Will End

I certainly did not expect the last couple of days to be as sad as they were, but David Lynch’s work was–regardless of it not being age appropriate–such a massive part of my childhood, I have imagined this is how normal people felt when Mr. Rogers died.

I think the feelings are heightened by how many others feel it–my Bluesky feed was overwhelmed with by people posting similar disbelief and sadness and tributes. Then every time Kyle MacLachlan says something, I just start ugly crying, whether it was his initial post about the news or today’s opinion piece.

My own much simpler reflection was posted to Patreon, far less eloquent but processing the need for art in a time of rising generative AI usage and squeezing the life out of creators that we see around us. I think that, too, is why I was hit with just profound sadness.

I openly, rather loudly, absolutely loathed The Return. I felt so disappointed and betrayed, I’m now writing a twelve-book grudge series and dedicated The Killing Beach to a fictional character–that’s how intensely mad I was. But to quote myself at Patreon here: I would rather art that I find deeply imperfect but that is saying something or doing something unique than milquetoast trash made in an attempt to appeal inoffensively to the highest number of people. I want art with edges that cut me instead of being so filed down I can no longer feel the texture. I need art that stays with me and changes me and leaves me with questions I have to find my own answers for.

I am so grateful to have grown up with his work and influence. I am grateful my media wasn’t censored as a child and I could imprint on it as hard as I have–even though I was in my thirties before I could watch a scene with BOB without covering my eyes. I am grateful for the stuff I loathed because spite fuels me and now I have a series in progress that brings me tremendous joy.

Lynch’s family has asked that everyone take ten minutes to mediate tomorrow (January 20, so possibly today when you read this) at noon PST, so 3pm EST which is my time, to reflect and spread peace, in remembrance and appreciation for his birthday. Tomorrow is, of course, day one of the newest shitshow in the US, so I’m unplugging to get work done and will set a reminder timer. Of course I can’t mediate, I never have been able to, but I’m going sit down in my Twin Peaks t-shirt and will make an effort to be grounded in the present and focused.

I am, at least, finally starting to feel like myself again, and hope that my brain is on the mend from burnout, because it’s awful to be sad and not writing. Feeling nostalgic, of course, so I’m writing a little Waverly backstory scene that’ll go up for Patreon.

This year will be terrible and I have no real solutions or answers, other than create what we can, care for those we love, and celebrate what we’ve got.

(the gif and title is, of course, from one of the Log Lady intros to Twin Peaks back in the day, which are a little bonkers but memorable)