I sit here frozen, trying to put into words all the feelings I felt on David Lynch’s birthday, even though heartbreak is surrounding us in this city right now, and it’s still too early to express how I feel. I’ve always thought it was too early to express myself. .
It’s too early to get over this sadness or to sum up one of the greatest dreamers in the art world and my dearest friend. When I think of how he lived by truly diving into the unconscious, I think of his book Catching the Big Fish and how he wrote that catching ideas is like fishing. . The extraordinary Isabella Rossellini (with whom I share this life, thanks to David) recently reminded me. David always thinks of ideas as fragments that come to us, and by trusting them, we follow them “like seeds.” So today, David, on your birthday, I’m writing you a love letter in fragments. Like meditation, I try to remember our stories and reach for them by bringing to light all the delicious, awe-filled moments.
You left us in complete ruin, our city we called home, our beloved Los Angeles. I know you were worried about everyone’s heartbreak and sense of loss, but yet, like in your film, you always believed in the light and the goodwill of people, even during the horrors that were happening. I had hope for our city and all the people who live here. Somehow it doesn’t shock me that in this moment, gratitude and despair are so closely tied together for the loss of our city and you. A genius who not only gave us some of our most iconic images and inspired our dreams, but also captivated Los Angeles forever. into them.
Artistically, I found myself in you. Well, you found me. In 1985, at the age of 17, I walked into a casting office to be cast in “Blue Velvet.” You were the most unique and light-filled person I have ever seen. And you immediately felt like family to me. We love The Wizard of Oz, Bob’s Big Boy, turkey sandwiches on white bread, and Transcendental Meditation (as you have done for so many people around the world). We had conversations on a variety of topics, including: Of course, we discussed our mutual love for Los Angeles.
I grew up near Tale O’ The Pup, about two blocks from where you lived at the time. We often shared memories of magical places with deep stories. Duper’s house, the Beverly Hills amusement park, and the Doheny mansion (former home of the American Film Institute) where you made “Eraserhead.” We talked about Chasen’s. We had both seen Jimmy Stewart there. Marie Callender’s. hollywood bowl. Drive down Mulholland Drive and cruise down Ventura Boulevard. Old Hollywood studio grounds and Musso & Frank, the Beverly Hills Hotel coffee shop. Norm’s. Hollywood Boulevard and Hollywood Hills. and fishing off the edge of the Santa Monica Pier. When you chose to cast me, I immediately left university and followed you to the ends of the earth. I never looked back. This is where my spiritual education began.
Dern and Lynch on the set of 1990’s Wild at Heart.
(Anpas)
I was raised by actors and witnessed the collaboration my parents found. In the camaraderie that only they and their masters could understand, I fell in love with my dream profession: acting. When I met you, I felt that I had found mine. When I was a teenager, I never imagined that I would be so happy to spend all these years receiving your guidance, transforming and growing in my artistic life journey. You have given me the opportunity to explore all aspects of the female psyche, to play with archetypes and to shatter previous understandings. You pushed me to be fearless. You took me into haunted, scary spaces, and sacred spaces, and helped me find joy in tragedy. You made me believe in everything that is good in this country and fear everything that lies beneath it.
On Blue Velvet, you took me and Kyle MacLachlan under your protection and treated us as essential collaborators. Your acceptance of us as partners and allies has deeply shaped both of us. You believed in the ritual of art and the benefits that should be accorded to it. My first memory of this is a summer night in Wilmington, North Carolina, while we were filming and you were playing Shostakovich so we could get that sense of mysticism you were craving. There was a warm breeze flowing over us. You and Kyle introduced me to chicken walking.
When we sat together in Sandy’s childhood bedroom in “Blue Velvet,” you were so happy with the take that you requested perfect silence to respect the emotional moment, but you looked at me with very loving eyes and said, “Beautiful little thing.” And I asked you, “Why did you call me Tidbit?”
And you said, “You’re a bit of a bitch, so you’re a bit of a bitch.” And I agreed. “Then there will be two of us.”
You taught me to use music as a muse and took me to sunsets in the Texas desert. So Nicolas Cage and I had a blast on Power Mad’s speed metal song “Slaughterhouse,” which turned into an explosive love affair with Richard Strauss’ “I Abendrot.” ”
I remember sitting with you at a hotel bar in downtown Los Angeles during a showing of Twin Peaks: The Return. We were trying to capture a moment when my character, Diane, is drawn into an upstairs room where she expresses her story in a monologue and experiences a deep fear. As I sat there with a cigarette in hand, what I was so in awe of was how much you cared about Diane’s journey and how much you loved her and wanted to be with her. . I thought I was going straight to my hotel room, but that wasn’t the case.
“We will be with you every step of the way,” you whispered. “We’ll go to the bar. We’ll go to the elevator. And we’ll walk with you as you walk down the hallway to that door. You can’t make a decision until you decide, but whenever it feels true, we’re ready for you.” A tribute to the character. The magic you brought to the stories, and the truths you demanded that we found even in the most extreme and absurd places, gave me my place in your humanism rather than the surreal or unique individualism in your art. It opened my eyes.
I remember sitting in a hotel lobby in Paris, sipping a cappuccino, staring at you with your yellow legal pad. You wrote that four-page monologue for my character in Inland Empire. Then we ran to Monoprix to find the perfect shade of red lipstick. No one has taught me more about lipstick shades than you. You actually mixed the colors to create the yellow lip color from Twin Peaks. (I was shocked this didn’t exist before.) I was very particular about the 15 minutes it takes to get the right lip color for a character. The purpose of repainting a hallway is to temporarily make it perfect. And when I say “repaint” I mean paint yourself with a paintbrush.
Now, let’s get back to red lips and us filming “Inland Empire.” Just you, me, and the Sony PD150. This experience is something I will treasure forever. We finished that scene and felt very happy. Proud of myself, I sat down to enjoy my feast. It was a macaron on the bedside table. Housekeeping must have left it in the room where I was filming. You screamed when this pink treat was halfway down my esophagus. Props! Must be photographed close-up from different angles. ”After that, you always said, She eats props. ”
You have taught me more and more over the years to swim in the unknown. For example, when my character arrives at a burlesque club, you say you want me to walk through this empty room and watch women pole dance. You put a screwdriver in my hand and said, “Roll!” And I whispered to you. “Quick, why do I have a screwdriver?” And you say, “Stop asking too many questions.”
“Hey, just stay still while I put on your makeup,” you once said to me. “But David, why do you use black tempera paint?” I asked. Not just the face, but also the ears and nose? ” And you said, “I need to look really dirty.”
And when you took me to Hollywood and Vine in the middle of the night, you proudly told me that you scrubbed the star on the sidewalk where I lay with bleach and said, “Come on, get down there.” . Then you said, “Promise me you’ll shave your head in your next movie. We need you bald.”
You were always a very kind inventor, always listening, always excited. Every day had the same value. If you lose your place, you’ll start building a new set to use. Even if the weather was an issue, you’d say it was “even better.” Everything for you was a universal conspiracy to make art more true. My mother (Diane Ladd, you gave me the luxury of co-starring) said to me the other day: He never seemed angry. And he never cursed. He always had us do it in the movies. ”
I have had the privilege of watching your wonderful children grow up, and you have loved and accepted my children. When my Ellery was four years old, I remember finding a penny on the street and asking why David Lynch was using it. And when I explained that it was Abraham Lincoln, he only called you Abraham Lincoln throughout his childhood.
Through you, I learned what it means to simply accept and be loved without judgment. You changed all art forever, whether it’s movies, music, paintings, comics, or weather forecasts, and you made it all a space for dreams. All of which brought you equal amounts of joy and creative bliss, guided in that moment by your deep instincts and creative consciousness. You had to create art every day. You meditated daily as an act of dedicated service. You lived in gratitude and grace. You never knew bitterness. In your life, you always felt lucky.
I remember walking off the stage arm-in-arm with you at the Governors Awards, where you had just won an honorary Oscar. I looked at you and said, “Hey, I heard you just won an Academy Award.” And you said: “But it wasn’t my idea. I was just lucky to have found it.”
What a miraculous journey you are continuing for me. I loved that you were planning your next great adventure when you left. I will miss and love you forever.
Dern is an Oscar-winning actor and star of David Lynch’s Blue Velvet, Wild at Heart, and Inland Empire.
