Prince- A remembrance.
His sudden death last night seemed as surreal as his life.
As disconcerting as it was, it seems like he would have wanted it like this.
It seems strangely appropriate that he exited the world itself just as dramatically, and unpredictably, as he arrived on the world's stage.
It caught us out there...off-guard, unexpected.
We all stopped where we were, paused, and reflected on his amazing creations.
We shed some tears, and forced smiles through them.
The thing that he shared along with his music, the thing that touched our very souls, was his love of life and everything about it. We felt the need to smile to honor that.
His sensuality and passion was overt and startling at a time when that was not common.
His reflections and juxtaposition of sexuality and expression as spiritual experiences discomforted the mainstream.
He arrived. He staked his place. He dominated. He did not compromise.
The artists of the world, the musicians, and writers, and painters and poets gasped - jarred by his creativity.
He exposed an unexpectedly raw dimension, a realm of unapologetic, brash vibrancy that would not be contained by social sanctions.
He touched our minds, our spirits, and our lives. Our souls answered the call from his.
Like many artists, his demons were present. Passionate exuberance was tempered with dark, haunting shadows. When he spoke from his heart, it was sometimes difficult to separate delight and disturbance. He occasionally spoke of his pain, but he channeled it into his music. His sentiments were mirrored in his works, obsessively attentive, frivolously joyful.
He veered from ecstasy to enchantment, inviting us in, and compelling us if we hesitated. He was a chameleon who navigated worlds, bridging what seemed incongruent to many. His metamorphosis from sophisticated eroticism to irreverent boy from the hood disconcerted those who could not imagine any symmetry there. He could be brash or charming, and most disarmingly, both together.
He encompassed the diversity of his racial heritage, connecting the characteristics and cultures, but refusing to be defined by any one piece of it. He moved comfortably from articulate clarity and poetic expression to colloquial slang. He understood and demonstrated that humanity and humor crossed racial, economic, and social lines.
He blurred the lines often to make a point, but he never gave up the ability to move back and forth. He would go comfortably from his "white" persona to his "black" persona, and then effortlessly integrate them again. It was a cultural expression that had rarely, if ever, been demonstrated on stage. It had certainly never been presented in his signature larger than life way.
He was provocative and playful, demanding, and giving.
He shared his gift with the world, and then he vanished.
He left us beautiful words and music.
He admonished us to laugh and play and party and dance, because those things bring joy and make life better.
He reminded us to be passionate and pure, and to bare our souls to the ones we love.
He challenged us to be honest, loyal, and true to those who matter.
He challenged us to BE.
He demanded action and pushed himself to bring his dreams and thoughts to life for all of us.
As the purple lights are turned off, as the songs go silent, as it all fades and we say goodbye...
Let us all remind ourselves where he stood and what he did.
He did not promote anger and violence and hatred between races and genders and ethnicities.
He was an artist, who took all of those seemingly divergent parts, and unified them into something extravagantly beautiful and unexpected.
Maybe, just maybe, we can use the bridge that he imagined, and worked so hard to create, to move forward instead of backward into the escalating insanity and sadness around us.
If he touched your life as he did mine, even momentarily, with a song, a lyric, a riff, or his offbeat humor:
DO something.
Create something.
Make something.
Share it.
He honored us with his gift of music. He made a difference.
The least we can do is honor him by a single demonstration to show the world that he touched us, and he mattered.
Copyright April 22, 2016 R. Kersey
His sudden death last night seemed as surreal as his life.
As disconcerting as it was, it seems like he would have wanted it like this.
It seems strangely appropriate that he exited the world itself just as dramatically, and unpredictably, as he arrived on the world's stage.
It caught us out there...off-guard, unexpected.
We all stopped where we were, paused, and reflected on his amazing creations.
We shed some tears, and forced smiles through them.
The thing that he shared along with his music, the thing that touched our very souls, was his love of life and everything about it. We felt the need to smile to honor that.
His sensuality and passion was overt and startling at a time when that was not common.
His reflections and juxtaposition of sexuality and expression as spiritual experiences discomforted the mainstream.
He arrived. He staked his place. He dominated. He did not compromise.
The artists of the world, the musicians, and writers, and painters and poets gasped - jarred by his creativity.
He exposed an unexpectedly raw dimension, a realm of unapologetic, brash vibrancy that would not be contained by social sanctions.
He touched our minds, our spirits, and our lives. Our souls answered the call from his.
Like many artists, his demons were present. Passionate exuberance was tempered with dark, haunting shadows. When he spoke from his heart, it was sometimes difficult to separate delight and disturbance. He occasionally spoke of his pain, but he channeled it into his music. His sentiments were mirrored in his works, obsessively attentive, frivolously joyful.
He veered from ecstasy to enchantment, inviting us in, and compelling us if we hesitated. He was a chameleon who navigated worlds, bridging what seemed incongruent to many. His metamorphosis from sophisticated eroticism to irreverent boy from the hood disconcerted those who could not imagine any symmetry there. He could be brash or charming, and most disarmingly, both together.
He encompassed the diversity of his racial heritage, connecting the characteristics and cultures, but refusing to be defined by any one piece of it. He moved comfortably from articulate clarity and poetic expression to colloquial slang. He understood and demonstrated that humanity and humor crossed racial, economic, and social lines.
He blurred the lines often to make a point, but he never gave up the ability to move back and forth. He would go comfortably from his "white" persona to his "black" persona, and then effortlessly integrate them again. It was a cultural expression that had rarely, if ever, been demonstrated on stage. It had certainly never been presented in his signature larger than life way.
He was provocative and playful, demanding, and giving.
He shared his gift with the world, and then he vanished.
He left us beautiful words and music.
He admonished us to laugh and play and party and dance, because those things bring joy and make life better.
He reminded us to be passionate and pure, and to bare our souls to the ones we love.
He challenged us to be honest, loyal, and true to those who matter.
He challenged us to BE.
He demanded action and pushed himself to bring his dreams and thoughts to life for all of us.
As the purple lights are turned off, as the songs go silent, as it all fades and we say goodbye...
Let us all remind ourselves where he stood and what he did.
He did not promote anger and violence and hatred between races and genders and ethnicities.
He was an artist, who took all of those seemingly divergent parts, and unified them into something extravagantly beautiful and unexpected.
Maybe, just maybe, we can use the bridge that he imagined, and worked so hard to create, to move forward instead of backward into the escalating insanity and sadness around us.
If he touched your life as he did mine, even momentarily, with a song, a lyric, a riff, or his offbeat humor:
DO something.
Create something.
Make something.
Share it.
He honored us with his gift of music. He made a difference.
The least we can do is honor him by a single demonstration to show the world that he touched us, and he mattered.
Copyright April 22, 2016 R. Kersey
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