Twin Peaks has grown with me.
Every few years, I get back into it, and appreciate different levels.
(This also happens with The Beatles, and The Maxx.)
The show was light-hearted and harmless to me at first.
As a little tike, I giggled at the surface-level comedy of the show. The locals. Coffee. Doughnuts. Pie.
Being a smart (if you please) youngster, scary movies were fun entertainment.
But the episode of Maddy's death shocked me.
The Giant, the pale horse, and BOB made me begin to feel a strange world within/around ours.
This episode shined the initial "spotlight" on my awareness.
Growing up in the pacific northwest made the "darkness in these woods" particularly frightening.
If only because we fear what we do not understand.
Apparently, I talked about Twin Peaks a lot in the 3rd grade,
since my teacher appointed me the show's official reviewer.
It was my duty to get up in front of the class, and recap last night's episode.
(my favorite was "...and then, he scratched his face with the garden rake!" -"Eeeww!!")
Kids would come to me with questions, and we'd act out scenes.
In my notebook, I'd draw Brigg's tattoo, like Coop did, looking for answers.
I'd make clues and hide them in walls, under rocks, behind trees.
The film didn't impress me much in 6th grade (I was upset by no Coop/BOB resolution),
but it planted certain seeds in my young brain.
And in my early teens, when I finally owned The Secret Diary of Laura Palmer,
she had become a map to the amazing life I was going to lead.
It made me anxious to grow up and find this "fire" stuff.
(fire on the street on my way to The Roadhouse. photo by me)
(The Roadhouse interior shots were filmed here.
blocks away from my apartment in Seattle)
In high school, the new internet made it possible to view vast interpretations.
I discovered the transcripts of The Log Lady intros, which held many answers.
All this new information inspired me to revisit my Twin Peaks VHS tapes.
I remember turning 18, and thinking Laura never would.
In my early 20s, I had a car and enjoyed driving to films and concerts.
Wild at Heart was playing up in North Bend, so I drove up.
In the theater, I was looking for a seat, and a nice lady moved over to make room.
Sitting down next to her, I realized it was Grace (Laura Palmer's mom)!
I had no idea I had walked into a Twin Peaks Festival. (which is a whole other story.)
Now, in my late 20s, the show is calling me again.
Except, this time around, my life experience is helping me understand characters and events.
I'm not just watching it. I'm feeling it. Comprehending. Sympathizing.
As if they were speaking an old language, which I had to learn through age.
Mysteries are revealing themselves to me. Curtains are being lifted.
Characters and music that once terrified me, I now actually find comforting.
Strange images and sounds, which perplexed me my whole life, are in my grasp.
I'm often unable to articulate what they mean or why, but that's okay.
Failing to explain why something is beautiful, doesn't make it any less.
Sometimes, making a connection with an odd visual or bit of dialogue,
can be as simple as "how does this make me feel?".
And no one will have all the answers to world of Twin Peaks.
Part of it's charm is that it's unique to each person.
For me, Cooper has always been the perfect man. BOB perfect evil.
Either David and Mark rang the perfect bells,
or the show came at a very impressionable time in my life,
but this is how it's been for me.
The show is part of who I am.
For the first time, I can watch it alone. I'm not scared.
Maybe because seeing more of the world's angels and fires has helped me know myself better.
And when you start to understand, it makes those old woods less dark.