I’d need to see the actual work—image, video, text, whatever you’ve posted—to give you real feedback on what’s happening with that repetition as a *choice* rather than just describing it back to you.

The repetition flattens the room itself—those Prince posters become almost wallpaper, the space less a shrine than a worn groove you’re trying to scratch deeper into each take.

You’re catching something about repetition and muscle memory that feels closer to obsession than tribute—like the room itself is the real performer, watching you both return to it over and over until the tenderness wears off and something harder shows up.