Time to Eat
When I started this project, I named the it after one of the ceramic corsets I'd been making. The corsets are named “Time to Eat” I, II, III, etc. I realized that I had been focusing on the “eat” but not the "time" aspect. How do I use my time?
Over the course of this project – the interviews, the conversations, the artwork created, the connections made….none of it would have happened without spending time with others. How we spend our time defines our selves. How do we define our lives? Create our identity? How do we limit or unlimit our selves? Considering the time we have left in our lives, what do we want do with it?
In the invitational spirit of the project, this site exists to create an interactive space where people may experience the words of the other participants and have space where they can also write and share their stories about their relationship with their bodies and food.
As individuals across generations grasp the opportunity to create more intersections through interactions, will we become more “at home” in our own selves? Having collaborated in a way that left us connected to others, will we be heard and seen – not as objects, but as subjects in our own stories – and find ourselves at home?
It is in sharing the stories that shaped us that we find connections to others. Please consider sharing your experiences here.
The legal stuff: By sharing stories from your life here, please know that you are giving permission to Christine Belton to: Use, reuse, publish and republish the same in whole or in part for any lawful purposes in any and all media whether now known or hereafter existing, including print, broadcast and the Internet. By sharing your stories on this blog, you agree to make no monetary or other claim, including any and all claims for libel, for the use of the words, images or photographs posted by you on this site.
What I Learned – July 27, 2021
When I was a child
I was freet to explore and roam
Play with implements of construction and destruction
Slither about in the caves and dam the creek
Climb trees, draw freely and put on plays for our parents
We learned about our immediate world with our hands and our bodies
Everything was on the table
My parents are greedy readers and so are their three children
We read every book they read; they never censored what we read
We learned about the world through science fiction, murder mysteries, biography and Mom’s historical romance novels
I learned about the factual world outside my neighborhood from the materials on the bookshelves in my parents’ bedroom
Next to a full set of encyclopedias were the Life Cycle Library books; informative books about puberty, sex and pregancy
On top of the encyclopedias were Dad’s Playboy magazines
All the facts we needed to learn could be found in these three resources
Everything was on the table
We were expected to work hard and to tell the truth
We had chores and responsibilities; allowances and homework time
We played games and organized our neighborhood into teams for kickball
Caught fireflies in jars, built forts and turned our Wiffle bats into lightsabers
Drank red Kool Aid and rode our bikes until the street lights came on
Everything was on the table
Mom made dinner every night
Sandwiches for lunch in a brown bag with a piece of fruit and a Little Debbie Snack Cake
Cereal, pancakes, waffles, eggs or oatmeal for breakfast
Everything was on the table
We were not allowed to snack between meals or when we got home from school – unless it was a piece of fruit
Mom was an excellent baker
Bread pudding, apple dumplings, carrot cake, pound cake, birthday cake
Pies, donuts, strudel, bear claws and buttery cookies
We could only eat dessert at a specific time and in a specific amount
Mom was often on a diet
Eating thin toast with cottage cheese and no joy
Our food intake was directed and policed
We were hungry when we got home from school
“Eat a piece of fruit”
I still hate those words
The food police were diligent and harsh
I became a criminal
Everything was on the table
Of course I knew I had to cover my tracks
Encyclopedia Brown and Nancy Drew and Scooby Doo taught me that
Scoop a serving from under the crust of the bread pudding
Skim a thin layer off the top of the ice cream
Wash the spoon and put it away
Rearrange the donuts to fill in the empty space left after eating one
Slice a thin layer off the cake and make sure the contour shape of the missing wedge has not significantly changed
Pay attention to the details before stealing food
Wipe your mouth
Leave no crumbs on the counter or floor
First and only rule: Do Not Get Caught
We had a ceramic cookie jar shaped like a mug of hot chocolate
It is a mid-century McCoy piece of pottery
The lid handle is shaped like the swirl of whipped cream on top of the hot chocolate
The lid clanks ceramic-ly when opened
Mom could hear it from the basement
Mom is deaf in one ear
We desired these cookies
The food police said the cookies were off the table
We implemented the first of many cookie heists
I was the criminal mastermind behind the plan
We started a fake fight in the kitchen
Using the ruckus to quietly raid the cookie jar
Mom responded to the uproar in her usual way:
“Jesus Christ, take that argument outside already!”
We left with our ill-gotten deliciously crunchymeltychocolaty cookies
We didn’t get caught
It is a funny story
Everyone laughs when tell the story
What I learned isn’t as funny
How to lie
How to plan carefully – thinking through all future possibilities and pitfalls
How to pay close attention to details
How to cover my tracks
How to want something to distraction
How desire can compel me to irrational action
Getting what I desired left me feeling guilty because I lied and stole to get it
How to not articulate what I need
To conflate what I need with what I desire
How to persuade others
What I learned
The adrenaline flow in the illicit act feels wonderful
The post-theft guilt feels horrible and lasts longer than expected
Waiting to be “found out” creates a free-floating anxiety in my head
The feeling of anxiety attaches itself willingly to other areas in my life
Controlling my environment alleviated some of the anxiety
I kept my room very clean and tidy and I chewed my nails
The act of eating illicit food creates a temporary anxiety-free zone in my head
It is a cycle of eating secretly, feeling guilty and anxious and eating to feel nothing
Forty-five years later I still eat secretly
What I learned
I police my own eating now – cutting out the middleman or middlemom
Therapy, drugs, a randomized drug trial at Penn, diets, scales
Measuring cups, portion size, intense exercise
Buying “aspriational” clothing hoping I would fit into it when I lost weight
Hold the camera above my eye level to avoid photographing double chins
Stand in the back in group photos
Avoid mirrors that show my whole body
In theory I’m free but in practice I’m tethered to the past.
Forty-five years later, I also spend my time creating art
Recently thinking back to the cookie jar to see what else I can learn about myself
What I can learn about others
Everything is on the table
I’ve been exploring the manner in which we participate in the cultural discourse about control
Diet
Weight
Clothing choices
Body modification/surgery
Drug use
Food socialization
I’ve been interviewing people about their early history with food and control
Listening to what they learned in the past
Giving them an opportunity to be seen in the present in a drawing session
I continue to look outward and inward at my own life and practices around food and body
Discerning anew the threads of what I learned
As the threads weave themselves into my life and my work
Christine Belton 