This week, we lost Prince, the enigma of the pop world. But he was so much more than that because he elevated his art to such a high level – he truly was his art and he stood for something real and pure. His music and lyrics came from deep inside and they didn’t sound like anything else we had ever heard, before or since. He made me understand what music is, in a whole new way, as an expression of one person’s vital humanity.
They are calling him “the purple one” – a nod to his famous song and movie, Purple Rain. In all the years I have heard those lyrics, I never heard anyone say what the purple rain is. Am I the only one who wondered what he is talking about in that song? It’s clearly a sorrowful expression of love ending, but is there more going on in there? What is the purple rain? He even tells his audience, “If you know what I’m singing about, raise your hand.” They all raise their hands, but I don’t think they really know what he’s singing about. The man was brilliant on so many levels; I would have loved to see him live to be a wise old man, still creative into his declining years. But like so many, the flame burns bright flickers fast.
Awkward segue to something local: Speaking of purple, do you recall the old Deep Purple song from the 70s, “Smoke on the Water.” We had that as you can see in this photo by Jean Jarreau. After days of glorious clear skies last weekend with visibility as sharp as you can imagine, calm reflective seas and all the details of Saba and St. Barths standing out, begging for photography – after all that, we get smoke, ugly and sickening, hanging in the air. Smoke on the water, drifting past homes and businesses, sports fields and festival village. There was almost no wind those first few days, best possible conditions to extinguish the fire on the dump. And yet it burned, we really can’t accept this as normal, this is not okay.
Until next weekend,