By John Corrado

What more is there even to say? I’ve found myself at a loss for words all day about the loss of David Lynch. Oscar-nominated filmmaker, artist, creator of the seminal TV show Twin Peaks. Tributes have been pouring in and will continue. I’m just shocked he’s gone at 78.

Lynch was a truly singular artist who has left behind an incredible body of work that will endure and live on. Who can forget watching Twin Peaks for the first time, or digging into his filmography. His work was avant-garde, while dealing with themes of light and darkness. He was one of the great ones.

Where to even begin? Mulholland Drive, Eraserhead, The Elephant Man, Blue Velvet. All of his movies and TV work. I’m crushed we never got another feature film from him (blame Netflix). My only solace right now is in thinking about how many others will continue to discover (and rediscover) his art, and be as inspired, disturbed, and provoked by it as he intended.

That voice, those ideas, his vision. And who can forget his onscreen appearance as John Ford in Steven Spielberg’s The Fabelmans? It will now be even more fondly remembered as a fitting, beautiful capper to his wondrous career; one giant of cinema portraying another, in a film directed by another one of the greats. Poetic stuff.

Rest in Peace, David Lynch. Gone too soon.