For Britt Allcroft & David Lynch

May all beings be free from enmity and danger

May all beings be free from mental suffering

May all beings be free from physical suffering

May all beings take care of themselves, happily

— adaptation of the Chant of Metta (Loving-kindness), which Lynch made reference to in his last video broadcast

The rocket blast that has been the first eighteen days of 2025 has been dominated by almost nothing good on the domestic and international stages.

I wanted to take a little bit of time and space to pay tribute to two filmmakers who have had irreplaceable influence on my life as a fan and an artist, who have passed away recently: Britt Allcroft and David Lynch.

Like many neurodiverse children of the y2k era, Thomas the Tank Engine & Friends was my number one special interest. The engaged storylines and lore, vivid colors of the set dressing, and a seemingly endless array of model trains brought my attention to one singular point each and every time I rewound and rewound the VHS. The show’s British inflection had a direct influence on the way I write and talk, and I think spurred an interest in English literature and storytelling generally from a young age.

For those who don’t know, Britt Allcroft adapted the Railway Series by the Rev. W. V. Awdry into Thomas the Tank Engine & Friends starting in 1984. As the show’s first showrunner, she pioneered not only women’s careers in film but also sought to make children’s television more diverse. The latter of course, would also be the center of misogynist criticism against her — with editorial columns essentially calling her ‘woke’ (“politically correct” in the ‘90s) for wanting to include more girl and even gender ambiguous characters. As we experience a new lavender and DEI panic today in the United States, I can hardly fathom trying to work against and push back against those prejudices over 30 years ago.

Britt’s work has inspired me my whole life long. Those picturesque sets from the first few seasons of Thomas have become the backdrops of so many dreams of mine — dreamscapes full of wide valleys, gigantic viaducts, small quaint villages (think ‘cottagecore’), and trees, flowers, and vines of every color. I am lucky to have been able to tell her that, over email and in person. She always made time for Thomas fans — no matter how inane the question. On December 5th, 2015, I met her at a small book signing and storybook reading at Books and Cookies, in Santa Monica. I walked into her reading an old Thomas storybook or two to a small group of children, their parents, and a handful of adult fan. I had a chance to talk to her and have a book signed. I have been fortunate to meet many of my heroes — and most of the time I held it together — but I could not then. Tears welling, I told her how much her work meant to me and we chatted for a few minutes that seemed a lot longer than it actually was. The image of her in this Substack/thumbnail is from pictures we took together - though I’d rather not show my bloodshot eyes that morning, if you don’t mind.

Still, I am glossing over so much. All the time I have spent as a child and as an adult engaged with Thomas one way or another. At my in-laws’ house at my first Christmas there, we took out my fiancée’s old Thomas Wooden Railway toy collection and had a blast. When a friend who was working on the spinoff All Engines Go allowed me to contribute to a script they were working on in a small way. Finding Thomas toys lost at a Buddhist monastery and at my local Unitarian Universalist denomination. Even down to the etymology of Thomas as the Greek didymos — “twin”. Thomas has always been my twin, following me and allowing for a means of reflection during some of life’s hardest lessons. Even just recently, my personal spiritual practice was completely revolutionized by the apocryphal Gospel of Thomas and has allowed me to process the abuse I experienced growing up in the evangelical church. From its logia 96-7 (think something like ‘verses’):

Text within this block will maintain its original spacing when published Jesus [said], "The Father's kingdom is like [a] woman. She took a little leaven, [hid] it in dough, and made it into large loaves of bread. Anyone here with two ears had better listen!” Jesus said, "The [Father's] kingdom is like a woman who was carrying a [jar] full of meal. While she was walking along [a] distant road, the handle of the jar broke and the meal spilled behind her [along] the road. She didn't know it; she hadn't noticed a problem. When she reached her house, she put the jar down and discovered that it was empty."

Britt’s little leaven and jars full of meal broken across the course of my life have provided me with endless inspiration that no one can take away from me. From them have sprouted large loaves of dreams. When I learned of her death from cancer in the late hours of January 2nd, 2025 (though her death was on Christmas Day, 2024), I was completely crushed. But incredibly grateful and humbled by her life and work, and the little parts where our paths had intersected. My heart goes out to every fan of her work, her surviving family, and friends. That’s easily millions of people. The same I would say about the next figure I would like eulogize: David Lynch.

First off, bizarrely (or maybe not that bizarre, actually) both Allcroft and Lynch had connections to former Beatle, Ringo Starr, who served as narrator for the first two seasons of Thomas (plus its American spinoff’s first season, Shining Time Station). On the Lynchian side of things, the two had collaborated on events for Transcendental Meditation nonprofits, such as the David Lynch Foundation for Consciousness-Based Education and World Peace. I don’t think Allcroft and Starr kept in touch much since Starr’s departure from Thomas, but it appears that Starr was close enough to post about Lynch’s death. Marked with his classic “peace and love” mantra.

I think part of the reason I chose to bring these two together in memoriam is that, one: temporal circumstance, and two: highlight the similarity and differences between their work. The “Lynchian” is synonymous with “Kafkaesque” today; dreamlike as it is existential. The thing is, that’s also how I would describe the first four-ish seasons of Thomas. I’ve also had folks tell me over the years that they were creeped by Thomas for its live action animation, still faces, etc. as uncanny Go figure.

My introduction to David Lynch would not come during infancy but during my adolescence. Mulholland Drive (2001) had an incredible profound impact on me as a closeted sapphic — seeing the representation of lesbian desire against the background of old Hollywood was a powerful set of images that I first encountered right before a significant breakup in the middle of high school. Watching the film and its weird, do-wop soundtrack felt like a swan song to this relationship that from its inception had saw a lot of swapping of gender roles — but that’s a story for another time.

Twin Peaks (1990-1), Lynch at his best (I think), for me has become such a mental staple for me. When I started the series around 2016-7 for the first time, I quickly devoured it. At the time, I was working at a (soon to be closed) Babies R Us — my routine for one-two weeks was: coming home to my ex girfriend’s family’s apartment, watch Twin Peaks, go to work, and then sleep. The landscape was nostalgic and the series itself instilled in me the sense of gnosis one may get after a few weeks of consistent meditation practice. Like any hipster with a shitty car a few years would have, I bought the soundtrack by Angelo Badalamenti & Lynch on cassette. I would cruise around in my 97 Nissan Maxima in Orange County bumping that. When I moved to LA about 18 months later, I would have long drives down Mulholland Drive doing the same.

Also worth mentioning that I never really was the same after seeing David Duchhovny as Denise Bryson, maybe the first positive representation I had ever seen of a transgender woman

Not all of Lynch’s work landed for me (nor have I seen all of it), but the work that did impact me impacted me greatly. Moreover, his influence has bled into so many other things I love — including my new favorite movie (I confirmed this a few weeks ago to my fiancée) I Saw the TV Glow dir. Jane Schoenbrun — which I hope to write about at length one day soon. But more than anything, Lynch has been a constant beckon for me that there is a sincere and earnest way to incorporate spirituality into multimedia art in ways that are neither gauche nor pious. His devotion to his meditation practice and making weird outsider art has served me in a way therein I don’t think I’ve really even began to experience. But as I look to undergo new creative directions and hobbies in my 30s (just a little over a year away) in music, film, and whatever the hell else happens after grad school, I look to David as someone to emulate. Alongside Britt.

May both these beautiful souls rest in peace, and in their eternal repose know how much positivity they gave the world through their art. I leave you with two last things: the “Island of Sodor” song and my favorite theme from Twin Peaks: