When David Lynch died last week, it was almost hard to know whom exactly to mourn. He was a Renaissance man: musician, painter, meditation instructor, YouTube personality. Most, of course, mourn him as a filmmaker, the medium in which he left his most indelible mark. But I mourn him as a neighbor.

David Lynch directed many scenes throughout his illustrious career that have never left our minds, but these ones stand out.

I’ve never been much of a Lynch fan. I’ve loved some of his works. Loathed others. Confounded by much of it. Yet I found the sadness of the news distracting. For now, our culture has lost a truly original guy who stuck to his vision despite controversies and detractors.

The filmmaker’s COVID-era L.A. forecasts found the eerie in the everyday.

For the iconic writer-director, who was diagnosed with emphysema before his death last week at 78, cigarettes were more than a habit—they were a form of meditation, a symbol of the art life, and an endless source of visual poetry.