But it still drew you in at first and you saw a beauty there. Now that beautiful thing has turned to absolute horror. “And it’s a dead woman with her stomach ripped open. And then you step a little closer.” He pauses, dangling the words in suspense. “You’re walking along,” he begins slowly, “and you look over and see some incredible violet and deep purple going to black.
With a little coaxing, he’s prepared to illuminate the Lynchian aesthetic of finding beauty in decay and intrigue in mystery. Whack! The wasp retreats and Lynch’s mind comes back into focus. But it was the unpredictable moments, like Lynch being replaced by a masked figure whispering about eggs, that underlined the director’s status as a savant of the surreal. Near-unchanging local forecasts may have seemed an unlikely pursuit for a cinematic visionary who drinks an average of 15 cups of coffee a day. His work station, on the other hand, will be a familiar sight to anyone who tuned into Lynch’s daily weather reports, broadcast for years on his official website. “And with what I do, ya gotta get dirty.” “I feel comfortable in these clothes and you can get them very dirty,” he explains. You don’t have to be there to know this, however: Lynch wears the same clothes every day. Whack! He’s sitting behind his desk in Los Angeles, wearing cream chinos and a white shirt buttoned to the collar, straining his nasally voice into a small, wall-mounted phone box. There’s a wasp stalking the room and David Lynch is on edge, trying to gauge when to swerve and when to strike. Crazy Clown Time - The Stool Pigeon David Lynch on his life in film, wild ideas and a first foray into music
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