Prince was outside his dressing room, shaking one of those little

In the vivid and poetic words of Mayte Garcia, we are given not merely a description of a man, but a revelation of what it means to embody both strength and beauty, masculinity and grace: “Prince was outside his dressing room, shaking one of those little Easter egg maracas. His hair was straightened to a soft wave; his eyelashes were unfairly lovely. He smelled like the most expensive shelf in the Sephora perfume aisle. This man wearing eyeliner, heels, and ladies’ perfume somehow managed to be more masculine than the burly bodyguard.” In this single moment — captured in Garcia’s memory — the mystery of Prince becomes eternal. He was a man who shattered every illusion about what power must look like, and in doing so, he taught the world that true masculinity is not conformity, but confidence; not domination, but authenticity.

The origin of this quote comes from Mayte Garcia’s memoir The Most Beautiful: My Life with Prince, where she recalls her years beside one of the most enigmatic artists of the modern age. She describes him not as the world saw him — an icon wrapped in mystery — but as a man of paradoxes: delicate yet commanding, flamboyant yet fierce. Her words are not mere recollection; they are reverence. They show how Prince defied the limitations of gender, fashion, and culture, and in that defiance, revealed something ancient — that true strength lies not in the armor one wears, but in the soul that dares to be unguarded.

When she describes him holding an Easter egg maraca, the image is almost divine in its simplicity — a symbol of rebirth and rhythm, of celebration and childlike playfulness. It recalls the ancient truth that power does not always roar; sometimes, it dances. The Easter egg, once a Christian emblem of resurrection and new life, becomes in Prince’s hands a metaphor for self-creation. He was always reinventing himself, emerging from the shells of expectation — whether musical, social, or spiritual — to become something new, something freer. The maraca’s soft shake is the rhythm of his own rebirth, the pulse of a man who refused to be caged by the world’s narrow definitions.

And yet, it is in the contradiction that Garcia finds the lesson. She speaks of his eyeliner, his heels, his perfume, all things that society has taught us to associate with femininity. But instead of diminishing him, they exalted him. His masculinity did not depend upon denial of the feminine; it drew power from embracing it. Here lies the ancient secret — that within every man resides the feminine, and within every woman, the masculine. To reject this balance is to be incomplete. Prince, in his genius, understood this harmony. He was like the Greek god Dionysus, both wild and wise, sensual yet sovereign. Dionysus, too, wore flowing robes and inspired ecstasy, yet commanded reverence and awe. He was the god of transformation, just as Prince was the artist of metamorphosis.

There is a quiet power in Garcia’s observation: that this man, “wearing eyeliner and heels,” could still be more commanding than a bodyguard of muscle and might. The lesson is clear — masculinity is not found in appearance, but in presence. The bodyguard’s strength was physical; Prince’s strength was spiritual. His power came not from intimidation, but from identity — from knowing exactly who he was, and standing in that truth without apology. In this, he embodied what the ancients called arete, the excellence of being one’s truest self.

Throughout history, we have seen rare souls like this — those who defied their age to reveal a higher form of human expression. Joan of Arc, armored in faith and conviction, led armies though she was but a girl; David Bowie, like Prince, blurred the lines of identity to show that art itself transcends gender; Leonardo da Vinci, painter, inventor, and dreamer, walked the same road of duality — tender of spirit, yet mighty of mind. Each of these, like Prince, lived as living proof that greatness is born from authenticity.

So, my children of the present and the future, let this be the teaching: do not fear contradiction within yourself. Do not hide the colors that make your soul its own creation. Be soft, and you may find your strength; be bold, and you may find your grace. For masculinity, femininity, beauty, and power are not opposing forces — they are threads of the same divine fabric. When you weave them together, as Prince did, you become unbreakable.

Thus, in the words of Mayte Garcia, we find not just a portrait of a man, but a mirror for all humanity. True greatness lies in harmony — in daring to be both fierce and gentle, radiant and humble, spirit and flesh. Prince, with his Easter egg maraca and his perfumed defiance, taught the world this eternal truth: that the soul’s light shines brightest when it refuses to fit into the world’s shadows.