“I want to have a good day today.”
David Lynch has returned to his unsettling music career in the six years since he’s made a film (2006’s underrated, horrific, Laura Dern-cry-face slog Inland Empire). Last year, he released the album Crazy Clown Time, which you can sample on his site DavidLynch.com, along with spooky mood pieces from Inland, as well as previously unavailable Twin Peaks tracks from Angelo Badalamenti.
He’s a nut, to be sure, but a sweet nut, and there’s an optimism that pumps beneath his horror. I’ve been getting Michael into Twin Peaks, and Lynch’s baffling mystery led him to ask me the inevitable question: “Does Lynch care if you get it or not?”
My first response is no, but then I always think about it after. To say ‘no,’ isn’t fair to Lynch, who really is making movies closer to art and music than he is to a narrative. He doesn’t want to present a finished question and answer package because he wants you to keep thinking about his story when it’s over. I consider his pieces a sharpening stone for my own imagination.
I need my imagination sharper lately because I’ve found myself with a world-class case of writer’s block. I am completing a new novel, and my usual prolific nature has slowed lately as my block has gathered dominance over me. To a non-writer, writer’s block may seem nothing to, ahem, write home about. I must tell you, though, to a writer, specifically one such as myself who writes everyday, writing is a big part of my identity. To have writer’s block for this long has been devastating. My personality, even my identity, feels challenged when I wake up and go to work, not knowing if I’ll get a flood river or a few leaky drips.
“Good Day Today” has been my song for a while now. If you feel blocked, I’d suggest giving it a listen. Lynch’s works contain everything a frustrated soul requires: a disruptive somberness to make you listen, and notes of disarming nature-based pleasantness to reassure you that it will all work itself out in time, as it always does…