My Four Inner Demons (part 3 of 4)
by D. E. Hermann
Face Jugs were made from turned stoneware and local clays, featuring inset eyes and bared teeth often sculpted from kaolin (a bright white, locally sourced clay and a spiritually significant material in West African traditions). Between the 1840s and the 1860s, these vessels were made in areas like Edgefield, South Carolina, as well as parts of Georgia and North Carolina. They were created by skilled enslaved potters who worked within the region's commercial pottery operations. Historical ledgers largely leave their creators unnamed. Scholars speculate that the vessels may have held religious or burial significance. Some theorize they reflect complex responses of people attempting to live and maintain their personal identities under harsh conditions.
My third entry for the 'Face Forward' exhibition was perhaps my most despicable of inner demons.
It has been with me since grade school. When I was 9, my family emigrated from Buenos Aires, Argentina, to the United States. I spoke no English, only Spanish and French. I was enrolled in an elementary school in Charlottesville, Virginia, sometime in the mid-1960s, and became the instant weird kid. Clueless and unable to communicate. Back then, even teachers enjoyed bullying the odd child. There weren’t any support groups or sage advice-filled counselors to coax a beaten student out of the school bathroom or keep them safe from being tripped or knocked around on the walk home.
In that miserable first year, I discovered a treatment for feeling degraded and bullied. I would go home to an empty house and make several slices of toast after school, slathering them with butter and a thick coating of sugar. I soon became a tubby kid. Even after I learned to speak English, eating became how I dealt with life's upheavals well into adulthood.
When I created Crumbpit, I wanted to show his insatiable appetite. He is all mouth and belly, and has three claws on each grabby hand to shove food into his mouth. He even holds a real (oyster) fork firmly grasped in his prehensile tail. The fork speared the final bite of a (clay) donut. I made him functional: a candy bowl, if you are brave enough to reach past his fangs and snatch your treat from his gaping maw!
How I tamed my demon Crumbpit:
I committed to a better diet, had a gastric sleeve procedure, and lost 165 pounds. I still have another fifty to go. It is slow going, and while I have vastly improved my diet, my current challenge is exercise, or, more accurately, the lack of exercise. I’m working on it.
Like all pets, inner demons need outings, too. One cannot live in a world of potato donuts, dark chocolate, or pastries and not indulge on occasion.
My Four Inner Demons (Part Three of Four)
D. E. Hermann, March 2019 ©
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