How do you speak about an artist who not only impacted your understanding of art but changed your way of thinking? The news that David Lynch passed away should not have been as surprising as it was – he had publicly stated his personal battle with illnesses for years towards the end of his life, and recent events made it seem like he was comfortably making his voyage to whatever lies on the other side of this life he was insistent on understanding in his own unique way. Yet, the announcement struck like a lightning bolt, leading so many people to scramble for any sign that it wasn’t true. Yet, we are currently living in a world that has lost perhaps its most original artistic voice, a statement that may seem like an exaggeration at a cursory glance, but the more we consider its merits, the further it seems to become true, or at least very difficult to debate. Lynch was more than an artist I admired, he was a formative voice in my personal and professional life, a person whose work reworked my understanding of art, and whose philosophical curiosities, scattered liberally throughout his work in every imaginable medium, altered my comprehension of the world that none of us have ever been able to truly understand. To speak about a great artist in the past tense is a harrowing experience, especially one who has left such a profound impression, an indelible mark that can never be erased, regardless of how much existence attempts to erase the traces burned onto your consciousness by someone whose entire life was spent in pursuit of something that no one has ever been able to grasp, and who came closer than just about anybody for reasons that we grow to understand once we step foot into the version of reality he so painstakingly constructed for us over the course of several decades of impeccable work, the likes of which we have never seen before and most certainly will never see again.

Defining an artist is always a difficult endeavour – do we look objectively at their work, or do we ponder something deeper? In the case of Lynch, it’s impossible to choose the wrong approach. He was the embodiment of creativity, an artist whose entire existence revolved around the act of taking a blank canvas and adorning it with imagery and sounds that were previously unknown to our species, but yet stirred such a visceral, honest reaction in all of us, regardless of our background. Choosing his single greatest contribution to the world of art is impossible – when hearing his name, each one of us drew a different project to mind, which is not only a signal of his immensely prolific, diverse body of work but also his ability to touch every viewer or listener in different ways, forging a relationship with each of us, one that somehow felt so intimate and personal. Choosing a signature work is impossible, so instead of mentioning any singular film or artwork as being his defining masterpiece (which seems oddly vulgar in a moment like this – not because it is garish to eulogize someone through the work they produced, but rather because there is far too much to even begin to process the one defining piece), I’d like to talk about a work that means the most to me, on both an artistic and philosophical level. David Lynch: The Art Life was a relatively simple affair, a documentary in which a trio of young directors spent some time with Lynch in his home, following his day-to-day life as he went about his usual routine, showing the intersection between his domestic life and his ongoing artistic endeavours. In that film, he speaks about how one needs to live a life that is fulfilling, meaningful and ultimately rewarding to the individual – in essence, viewing life as nothing more than a work of art that we curate ourselves. How beautiful it is to be liberated from the burden of life’s challenges through the realisation that we are the arbiters of our destinies, and each one of us paints our own unique masterpiece?

I’ve been deliberately hesitant to mention any of his work, for the precise reason of avoiding elevating one above the other. As far as I am concerned, every piece of media he created or curated is on equal footing, existing as fragments of a broader, visionary work. Lynch worked in several different media – his film and television work may be what he is most fondly remembered for, but he started his creative life as a visual artist and painter, a pursuit he continued for the rest of his life, and one that we can argue was his true passion. He also worked in music and put together a few books, as well as his activism, particularly as one of the foremost proponents of Transcendental Meditation, which has been responsible for helping countless people. Every word I write about his achievements and professional output only reminds me of a dozen more. To call him a visionary seems oddly reductive. Yet, everything he did forms part of something much broader and unquestionably intimate. His work – regardless of medium – was defined by its ability to transport us to another world. Each encounter with his work unlocked new bundles of meaning that set us down a rabbit hole of curiosity and existential pondering. They led up through valleys of ideas that had never been imagined before, opening our eyes to new philosophical concepts that were rooted solely in Lynch’s profound understanding of how life is more than just what we see around us, and that there is something much deeper and more profound, should we be willing to look beneath the surface. His work is diverse in terms of stories, but connected in a sincere appreciation for the volatility of life and the unpredictable nature of existence, and how we are essentially the keys to unearthing the secrets that linger just out of sight. We were transported to versions of our world that are recognizable but slightly off-kilter, accompanied by a feeling of unconventional comfort, almost as if Lynch was assuring us that what we are witnessing is more authentic than any version of reality that we are sold in our daily lives.

Regardless of the work that meant the most to us, or the ones that defined his artistic endeavours, or the countless fascinating and profound quotes scattered throughout his career, Lynch will always be remembered not for redefining the art of surrealism to the point where the term “Lynchian” is going to be part of the permanent artistic vernacular, nor for his eccentric style of artistic expression, but rather for his ability to dare to look beyond the obvious and embrace the unknown, using his art to capture the world in a way that changed the way every single one of us viewed it, which is an extraordinary achievement and points to an undying compassion that strikes us from the very first encounter with his work. No one understood people in the same way as Lynch – it is often true that those who make their career through distorting reality and immersing the audience in nightmarish visions of uncanny worlds are oddly those who have the most sincere understanding of the way life functions. The weirdness with which he is usually associated, as enthralling and unique as it may be, ultimately becomes secondary when we ponder the sheer scope of his understanding of the human condition. Every one of his works, in any medium, is defined by a sense of fragile, earnest empathy that came from a place of genuine affection and admiration, which we can see in his characters, who are always fully-formed, three-dimensional figures who represent different archetypes, capturing a sensitivity that Lynch could only represent in these offbeat characters that are brimming with humanity and interminable soul. We don’t need to search for long to find something genuinely profound embedded in his work, and it’s certainly not uncommon to come across a scene that is simmering with a quietly benevolent philosophy that touches on emotions many of us may never have encountered, but which we find enriches our lives for a brief but meaningful moment. Once we’ve come across enough of these small, genuinely moving fragments, we finally begin to understand Lynch’s worldview and how he was not driven by a penchant for the peculiar or a desire to confuse the audience, but rather an undying devotion to the simple act of being human, which is the fundamental reason his work has resonated with so many people, and will continue to be held in enormous esteem for generations to come.

I’ve always thought that the sign of a truly revolutionary artist is one that comes about after their passing, where those who loved their work feel a very deep, personal sense of loss as if we have parted ways with a beloved family member or friend, even if we had never directly interacted with them as people. Based on the outpouring of grief and affection for Lynch over the past few hours since the announcement of his death, it’s clear that countless people feel the exact same way. How is it possible that someone very few of us actually knew personally could leave such a profound impression on our hearts? It’s a loss that is unfathomable and too difficult to put into words, but yet we cannot help but feel the most sincere admiration and appreciation for the work he did over the course of his career, and an even deeper respect for the person he was and how he chose to live his life, as authentically and honestly as anyone could, which is perhaps most impressive of all. I don’t normally write obituaries or tributes – if I were to do so for every artist I admire, it would be impossible to maintain, considering how rapidly so many of our heroes are passing away, which isn;t to invalidate their contributions at all. Yet, Lynch represents something so special to me as both an artist and a person – he opened my eyes to not only the power of art as a force to change the world but also the importance of self-expression in every aspect of your daily life. Living as authentically as possible while maintaining a curiosity and soulfulness in every waking (and dreaming) moment. This tribute was undeniably difficult to write, especially since I chose to deliberately avoid mentioning any of his films or characters by name – the work speaks for itself and should be appreciated on its terms. My focus was to look at the man behind the camera, the person who created one of the most unforgettable artistic careers of the past century, and someone whose vision is almost too immense to put into words. He had an endless imagination, more sprawling and detailed than could ever be entirely contained in any number of artworks, each one of which serves as a very small but profound glimpse into his incredible mind. We are beyond fortunate to have had an artist like Lynch, to have been able to sample from his genius and see the world through his eyes. As hyperbolic as it may seem, I can only summarize his legacy in these simple words: he not only changed how we view art, but he changed the world in his own small but significant way. He will be missed.