|Sunrise this morning. This is the view |
from my home office
When I came home, I was, again as revealed below, on The National. And again, different clips. And then again!!!!! On the late local news, and again a different take on the story. On The National, the newscast of a bilingual nation, they mispronounced my name. They deserve Ghomeshi; they don't do their homework.
I chose to see the first airing. I did NOT choose to see the other three and I didn't see the ones on either the other CBC channels nor the Global broadcasts. It has all left me feeling that I need to stay home today, warm and cosy and fix all the holes in me from the lights, cameras and microphones and heal, heal, heal. That experience was so incredibly intrusive.
I think what was so overwhelming was that all my past experiences with media were desired. Media attention in the past has always been free publicity for some event. This was not something I had orchestrated or saw coming. I kept getting asked; "Why weren't you at the auction?" Why the fuck would I go? That was what was so weird. I am a month away from being 67 and this event they were so interested in (When I bough the photograph) was when I was 33.
Alone, warm, cozy and dry at home with Leon, listening to my favourite music and doing laundry…. Now this is what feeling good feels like.