We are like the dreamer who dreams and then lives inside the dream.
I process my obsessions through creativity. And there is a lot to process as we have reached “the end” of Twin Peaks: The Return.
A Lynch fan since Eraserhead, deeply deeply influenced and inspired by The Elephant Man and Blue Velvet, I recall cutting out the news article about the pilot in early 1990. It showed Ronette Pulaski walking across the railroad bridge.
I recall the cultural shift when the show aired on April 8, 1990. The camaraderie as the weekly episodes were inspected and analyzed voraciously.
Our family’s countless trips to North Bend and travelling to all the sites from the show.
Staying at the “Great Northern” (The Salish Lodge) and walking down to the falls.
Meeting the one armed man and the man from another place (the arm) on the streets outside of the RR Diner during the first Twin Peaks festival. They signed our copy of Lolita- she is filled with secrets.
Drinking coffee and eating cherry pie at the RR diner.
Multiple trips, multiple times.
Being FREAKED OUT by Bob (to this day). On a visit to Las Vegas Fall 1990, I saw Bob silhouetted by the lights outside, in front of the sheer curtains, sitting in a lounge chair. He leaned forward and turned his head towards me. I leapt out of bed. JEEEEEEEEEZUS.
Reading Laura Palmer’s diary a gazillion times and collecting every clipping, article, book, collecting, collecting.
Trading fan art on instagram.
Looking for clues in every other Lynch film.
This new season was so much about my generation aging. Beautifully aging.
Aging is celebrated, honoured by Lynch.
I have wept for my own losses. All the life markers experienced since that first episode aired. (The log lady looking so much like my mother before she passed.)
We are like the dreamer who dreams and then lives inside the dream.
The dumbest and greatest and deepest show.
ART.
