On Friendship, David Lynch, and Questions Without Answers

Rhonda celebrates the life and wisdom of the creative genius.

‘We’d talk coffee, the joy of the unexpected, the beauty of the world, and laugh.’

As I type this, Ive had to tear myself away from watching YouTube videos of David Lynch, and people talking about David Lynch, and listening to the Twin Peaks soundtrack on Spotify – all ways of processing the fact that one of the world’s greatest creative geniuses has left us (rewatching Leland Palmer’s epic death scene is making it easier, as is watching Lynch’s talk on Consciousness, Creativity and the Brain in the context of transcendental meditation).

I was 22 and at uni when the first episode of Twin Peaks aired in the UK, and it blew my mind: terrifying, beautiful, sad, grotesque, hilarious - it remains for me the very best of TV. I’ve probably watched the first two series seven or eight times over the years, and I know whole scenes of dialogue by heart.

That’s not to say I don’t love everything David has ever done, it’s all up there. But it was Twin Peaks (and the hugely underrated movie prequel) that blew my mind and stole my heart. It was like nothing on Earth – a supernatural-horror soap opera about child abuse, with funny bits – FFS how did he pull that off?! I bow down…

The idea of the irrational forever bubbling away under the surface of normal life, the sense of great mysteries threading their way through the underbelly of existence, like the roots of a tree… These things resonated in me and influenced me more than I knew, I now realise as I think back to my first short story, about a woman haunted by a dead bearded lady and my first (thankfully unpublished) novel, about ghostly serial-killers in London (or somesuch – I think I’ve blanked it out).

I can’t put my hand on the quote right now, it may have been in a book I recently read about Jung (who like Lynch believed in a collective/universal consciousness) – in any case, I was struck by Jung’s idea that these mysteries (coincidences, synchronicities, inexplicable events, twin-soul encounters, dreams) are doorways into a deeper understanding of ourselves and the universe. But most of us walk past these doorways, distracted by other things, our eyes on some prize or our lives just too frantic. Or perhaps we’re just scared of opening the doors and lifting the veil.

But it’s not really about understanding, because ultimately we can’t. What is perhaps most admirable about Lynch is his refusal to expound on his work, to help out his viewers. He stayed true to his vision, and his vision was of a world that can’t be explained away.

‘He was not interested in answers, because he understood that questions are the drive that make us who we are. They are our breath’, said Kyle MacLachlan in a soul-stirring eulogy he wrote to David last night that included the quote leading this piece. You can read the whole of it here; it’s full of live-affirming beauty and if it doesn’t make you cry you need to take a long hard look at yourself in the mirror.

Kyle also provides the best ever, to my mind, definition of friendship:

‘His love for me and mine for him came out of the cosmic fate of two people who saw the best things about themselves in each other.’

Let’s all have friends like this. ❤️

Thank you for everything you gave us, David: the art and the life.

Donate to the David Lynch Foundation for Consciousness-Based Education and World Peace.