So said David Lynch, via the Log Lady. Not today, though.
I can't remember the last time such a wide swathe of people and social media accounts were pouring their hearts out about how they feel on someone's passing. It's a testament to how he touched everyone he met and worked with, and how he inspired the artists he never did. Even NASA posted a tribute.
The work, as you probably can imagine if you know me, is hugely important. Eraserhead is a bible for a certain aesthetic that I'll never really grow out of. Pabst Blue Ribbon, no matter how many times I hold a can, will always make me hear Dennis Hopper in my head. And of course, coffee and pie are magical talismans of goodness and purity in a dark, corrupted world.
The thing that probably stands out most to me about the man himself was that he just didn't compromise. Well, he did once, and that was Dune. He would just as soon that hadn't happened, though it holds a special place in a lot of our movie collections. He wouldn't shorten scenes, he wouldn't remove parts, he wouldn't use product placement. As a result, he perhaps made fewer movies before retiring than he might've wanted to — but they were all his movies. I think most artists, especially in this era where even the hobbyists and weekenders are pressured into feeling like they need to turn their work into "content," should pay attention to that.
And whether you believe this or not, it's worth taking it into account as we grieve:
You have to keep Angelo [Badalamenti, of course] alive. I believe life is a continuum, and that no one really dies, they just drop their physical body and we'll all meet again, like the song says. It's sad but it's not devastating if you think like that. Otherwise I don't see how anybody could ever, once they see someone die, that they'd just disappear forever and that's what we're all bound to do. I'm sorry but it just doesn't make any sense, it's a continuum, and we're all going to be fine at the end of the story.