Visceral | Shannon Eberhard

Last week I was home alone, working on a project with the television on for background noise. I hadn’t looked at the screen for a couple of hours; because I was concentrating on my art work. The sound of sirens on the TV pulled my attention away long enough to shackle my eyes to what has to be the most painful documentary I have ever seen. I think it was on PBS or something, but it was this huge compilation of photos, audio, and video from the fall of the World Trade Towers.

I guess I’m just too sensitive, but writing just this little bit about how it made me feel, makes my throat get tight and sore, my eyes burn. It was so dark and morbid, so unlike anything I have ever seen. There were these home videos that people made while standing around the towers, after the first plane hit.

These crappy hand held videos of people falling, jumping out of windows from thirty stories up, you could barely tell they were people the videos were so fuzzy. All kinds of curses and sobs in the background, when the jumpers hit. It was awful. I couldn’t stop watching. It was like I had entered some horrible nightmare I couldn’t wake up from, even thought the remote was right there. The TV didn’t turn off until my boyfriend came home and I realized I was sobbing soaked in tears. It made me mad, that he wasn’t drawn to it like I was. I guess misery likes company.