Prince is indifferent to the rote muscle memory of pop culture’s canned aesthetic intuitions. Beauty radiates fully formed from Prince’s subject’s, infused with divine light as aesthetic objects. It is eyesight on fire, threatening to seer [sic] into one’s soul if one looks directly, scarred by the light of reason and the light of the sun. Even though Prince appears to blind us with The Real, she in fact burns away our bias and banal blindness. The dilemma, ought we see, is anamnesis or amnesia.

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