Alicia Witt
‘let a smile be your umbrella’, he said.
‘and don’t get a mouthful of rain’, i added.
david paused a beat, surprised.
then his face dissolved into the hugest, davidest smile – and he laughed and laughed and laughed. hard, from the belly. and my heart soared.
the sound of david lynch’s laughter, which continued all the way as i walked down the stairs, is echoing in my heart.
that’s the last time i heard his voice. december 5, 2023.
i’m writing these words in shock. but what i know is that i owe it to the enormity of who he was in my life to immediately lend mine to the chorus of voices that are in mourning at this hour. and in celebration.
how many of those among us can truly say that they’ve changed the world – our understanding of the world?
he was a master filmmaker, a visionary, a one of a kind artist who clearly and joyfully saw the realms beyond this one (with no need for plant medicine to do so – we argued about this last time we saw each other – what a beautiful conversation).
my david lynch was family. as familiar to me, that voice, that smile, those eyes with their vision clear across to those realms, as any blood relative has ever been. without david lynch, i have no idea what my life would look like. he taught me what it was to make a movie, how to conduct yourself on a set, what to expect from a director, the sort of respect that is paid and is given. the way you give yourself completely and trust entirely when a director who has a clear vision asks you to fly with him creatively, destination unknown to any save for him.
david lynch also showed me who i was. on a core level. an actor. a channeler. how would i ever have know such things existed as a possibility if not for him? from the first moment he directed me in jane jenkins’ casting office in nyc at my audition for Dune, i felt like i was being seen for the first time. finding a power inside my soul like a seed uncoiling. i can remember the feeling, the communication between us, that i’d follow him anywhere in my mind and he’d lead me to not *play* alia, but to become alia.