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zarugh.bsky.social
@zarugh.bsky.social
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jmritchey.bsky.social
David Lynch on inspiration in diners.
"I used to go to Bob's Big Boy restaurant just about every day from the mid-seventies until the early eighties. I'd have a milk shake and sit and think. There's a safety in thinking in a diner. You can have your coffee or your milk shake, and you can go off into strange dark areas, and always come back to the safety of the diner."
January 17, 2025 at 1:58 AM
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emilyoram.bsky.social
This is a beautiful tribute.
kyle_maclachlan Forty-two years ago, for reasons beyond my comprehension, David Lynch plucked me out of obscurity to star in his first and last big budget movie. He clearly saw something in me that even I didn't recognize. I owe my entire career, and life really, to his vision. What I saw in him was an enigmatic and intuitive man with a creative ocean bursting forth inside of him. He was in touch with something the rest of us wish we could get to. Our friendship blossomed on Blue Velvet and then Twin Peaks and I always found him to be the most authentically alive person I'd ever met. David was in tune with the universe and his own imagination on a level that seemed to be the best version of human. He was not interested in answers because he understood that questions are the drive that make us who we are. They are our breath. While the world has lost a remarkable artist, l've lost a dear friend who imagined a future for me and allowed me to travel in worlds I could never have conceived on my own. I can see him now, standing up to greet me in his backyard, with a warm smile and big hug and that Great Plains honk of a voice. We'd talk coffee, the joy of the unexpected, the beauty of the world, and laugh. 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. I will miss him more than the limits of my language can tell and my heart can bear. My world is that much fuller because I knew him and that much emptier now that he's gone. David, I remain forever changed, and forever your Kale. Thank you for everything.
January 16, 2025 at 9:01 PM
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matthewjdowd.bsky.social
On this day in 1818 Frankenstein; or, The Modern Prometheus is first published, by 20-year-old Mary Shelley, the world’s first science fiction novel.

“I do know that for the sympathy of one living being, I would make peace with all. I have love in me the likes of which you can scarcely imagine...
January 1, 2025 at 1:10 PM