If Prince were a store - it would have closed it's doors yesterday. Forever. No rumours, no information in advance. No sign at the door, no 'back in five minutes' note, no excuse. No chance to find it somewhere else one day. The concept is gone, disappeared, not dead.
The Prince store (to me) was located in a foggy neighborhood of a large, dirty city, besides the high street, in a purple niche. A secret hidden space everybody knew but which ment a different universe to every single one. It wore different facades almost everytime I came for a visit. Even different names. While I basically remained the same, the store triggered me to change. Whenever I entered the hidden court, heading the purple niche, I was respectfully curious what to find. Open to let it work with me.
Over thirty years, since I entered the level, the store was always open, 24/7. Several times I had not been there for long but the Prince store was still there. Both rememberable and brandnew. It inspired me in a new way everytime I got in touch again. No matter if I entered the store in a lousy or happy mood - the atmosphere always lifted me up to the next level. Flashing, surprising, cheering, questioning, touching, stroking, punching, healing me with it's virtuosity and creativity. I collected everything in my heart. Thank u Prince.
(Photo: Wiki Commons)