Purple Rain was a rite of passage, a door we crossed through that cost us some innocence and gave us some vitality, and established us as a generation. Thinking of Prince and everyone else who saw Purple Rain at the Quaker Bridge Mall. Especially those who had to sneak in. Much love. xx This is what it sounds like, when doves cry.
The outpouring of tributes is almost too amazing to choose from, but if anything more beautiful than this comes into my day today, I'm going to consider it an exceptionally good day indeed. We sing at funerals for a reason. Voices, I think, do reach beyond this realm. https://www.facebook.com/ColorPurpleMusical/videos/1539485936347638/