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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