My first real brush with David Lynch was in a college graphic design class. We were asked to design a movie poster for Mulholland Drive. At the time, I didn’t fully understand the eerie dreamscape that Lynch was crafting, but I was hooked by the mystery and the atmosphere. It felt like stepping into a world that didn’t quite follow the rules of reality, and I wanted to be part of it.
As a kid, I remember seeing adults watching Twin Peaks. The haunting music, the surreal imagery. I’d drift in and out of the room, mesmerized by the strange beauty of it all, not fully grasping it but transfixed by the world Lynch had built, one where the lines between good and evil, dream and reality, were constantly shifting.
Fast forward 25 years, and I’m reading Catching the Big Fish, Lynch’s own musings on creativity and Transcendental Meditation. Here was a man who wasn’t just a filmmaker but a philosopher of sorts, using meditation to tap into a deeper level of consciousness, to create art that wasn’t just about the surface but the soul. So, I dove in myself, exploring Transcendental Meditation (TM) as a tool to quiet my mind and tap into that same creative energy. Six years later, it’s still a consistent practice of mine.
I’ll admit, I haven’t immersed myself in every film of his. Lynch’s body of work is vast and complex, filled with some films that feel almost like they require an initiation. But even as someone who has only dipped in and out, Lynch’s influence is unavoidable. His persona, his unique way of seeing the world, is like a persistent undercurrent in so much of what we do, even in the way we describe our own work as “Lynchian,” when it’s a strange, dreamlike sequence or an idea that just doesn’t quite fit into conventional storytelling.
In the end, Lynch isn’t just a filmmaker or an artist. He’s a reminder that art doesn’t have to make sense. Sometimes it’s about that feeling, that atmosphere, that thing you can’t quite put into words but know when you see it. The world he created isn’t just a place; it’s a feeling that lingers with you. It’s a mood, a tone, a dream that still keeps you awake at night wondering what the hell just happened.
So, here’s to you, David Lynch. Thank you for the deep dive, for showing us that creativity doesn’t have to be linear, and for letting us step into that strange, beautiful world of yours.