His Art, Her Agony

The relentless buzz of my phone announced another rejection, a common melody in the life of a struggling indie filmmaker.

Then, my best friend' s panicked face flashed on screen: "Chloe, have you seen the news? It\'s Ethan. His new exhibition. It\'s everywhere."

A cold dread washed over me-Ethan, my estranged artist-husband, whose art had always blurred the lines of our life.

But what I saw on that major art blog wasn\'t art; it was a violation: intimate photos of me, twisted into a public spectacle, portraying me as his "tragic muse."