In early days, when all was new,

a piece of paper, plain and true.

A child's hands, so small and keen,

on that blank slate, a world unseen.

First, a scribble, wild and free,

a testament to joyous glee.

Lines and circles, bold and bright,

a burst of color, pure delight.

Then come shapes, both sun and moon,

a crooked house, a wobbly balloon.

Stories told in crayon hues,

a canvas for those early views.

Letters form, a name is penned,

a milestone, as worlds blend.

Words take shape, a newfound skill,

on paper, dreams start to distill.

Sentences grow, tales unfold,

adventures brave, and stories bold.

A journey from those scribbles small,

to worlds created, loved by all.

Paper, the vessel for each stage,

from toddler's joy to the wisdom of age.

A constant friend through years so tender,

a keeper of memories, sweet and slender.

When pondering to myself about paper and its potential, I found that I did not really manage to think deeply enough about the material. I realized this when reading the book ‘Encounters With Materials in Early Childhood Education’. This really opened my eyes to paper’s possibilities and to consider paper as more of an entity, with a story, with a history and with endless abilities. In the book, paper is being studied deeply, and experimented with and thought about in many ways. Pacini-Ketchabaw, Kind and Kotcher explain that frequently, we see paper simply as a medium to bear writings, checklists, symbols, interpretations, sketches, artwork, narratives, and current events. However, once we've perused the latest news, the newspaper becomes redundant. Similarly, after a painting has been completed, it's left to dry, then rolled up and placed in a child's storage space until it's time to bring it home. They aimed to disrupt this usual process and that is when the potential of paper unfolded (Pacini-Ketchabaw et al., 2016, p. 24). 

In early childhood's open embrace,

where imagination finds its space,

loose parts scatter across the floor,

a world of wonder, an open door.

Blocks and beads, and sticks and stones,

nature's treasures, olden bones.

Bits and bobs of every hue,

crafting dreams, both old and new.

A stick becomes a wizard's wand,

pebbles mark the bounds of lands beyond.

Fabric scraps, a hero's cape,

cardboard tubes, a tower's shape.

In these moments, magic's made,

with every object, a new world laid.

Through loose parts, creativity sparks,

in children's hands, they leave their marks.

Learning through play, a timeless art,

with every piece, a part of the heart.

In the chaos, a pattern, a start,

the beauty of growth, in loose parts.

When thinking about junk/loose parts, I thought about what I had learnt throughout the Playwork unit I have done a while ago. I remembered the process of sourcing all my own materials and thinking critically about what children gravitated to and didn’t. I really enjoyed learning more about loose parts from reading the book ‘The Language of Art: Inquiry-Based Studio Practices in Early Childhood Settings’. In this book, Ann Pelo explains that in an early childhood art studio, items typically considered as trash, such as cereal boxes, toilet paper rolls, corks, juice cans, and telephone wires, transform into valuable sculptural resources. These everyday discarded materials present an exciting challenge. Through the imaginative lens of a child, a cereal box transcends its original purpose of holding cereal. It morphs into a miniature house for a paper doll, complete with a door at the base, windows adorned with tissue-paper curtains, and a chimney made of cork emitting wire smoke (Pelo, 2016, p. 115). 

In early days when hands explore,

clay becomes a child's open door.

A soft, malleable, earthy friend,

shapes and dreams, it helps to blend.

A pinch, a pat, a roll, a squeeze,

in those small hands, it aims to please.

Mountains rise, and valleys form,

in the warmth, clay's no longer norm.

Creatures from the deepest sea,

or a simple cup for tea.

Every touch imbues a tale,

in the world of clay, no scale.

Fingers dance with squishy mud,

leaving behind a creative flood.

In this moment, young minds soar,

with clay, who could ask for more?

It's not just play, but discovery,

a journey into sensory revelry.

Clay, in its essence, pure and bold,

in early childhood, stories told.

When sitting down to interact with the clay, I must admit that I really struggled to restrain myself to not create something, but to simply experience the clay. It felt very natural to want to make something, my hands were almost doing it on their own. It reminded me of how much I used to love plasticine, play dough and anything mouldable as a child, and it was very instinctual to want to create. When I finally managed to just sit with the clay and touch it, squeeze it, move with it, I began to wonder about where this clay came from, how it was sourced and what is the story behind it. After reading ‘Encounters With Materials in Early Childhood Education’, I learnt that clay originates from the earth, necessitating care and enrichment. Extracting clay from the river and presenting it to children must be done thoughtfully. This approach acknowledges clay's significance beyond just a material for children's art projects. Caring for clay involves considering the entire network of relationships that make ecological systems possible, rather than solely focusing on its advantages for children. Clay embodies life through its capacity to alter networks of care. It is not merely dirt but a thriving community of multiple species (Pacini-Ketchabaw et al., 2016, p. 61-62). 

In the early glow of childhood's day,

where shadows dance and lights play,

curious eyes, hands reach with might,

to grasp the wonders of the light.

With mirrors, prisms, on the stage,

a spectacle that does engage.

Colors bend, in rainbow’s arc,

igniting sparks in the dark.

A flashlight's beam, a cozy den,

a secret club, now and then.

Shadows grow, and then they shrink,

in light and dark, how we think!

Through tissue paper, soft and thin,

a stained glass window, light comes in.

Patterns on the wall do dance,

in every ray, a chance, a glance.

Experimenting, day by day,

in the bright and playful fray.

Learning in the light’s embrace,

the beauty of the world, in a trace.

In childhood's lab, the light, a friend,

on this journey, it does lend,

a way to see, to explore, to blend,

with light, our wonder never ends.

Pondering light is to delve into the essence of how we see and experience the world. It's an exploration of how light shapes our perceptions, mood, and even our sense of time. As we reflect on light, we consider its dual nature, both revealing and concealing, guiding us through the day and into the realms of imagination by night. In pondering light, we find ourselves contemplating its profound impact on art, culture, and our daily lives, recognizing light not just as a mere physical entity, but as a source of inspiration, comfort, and wonder. In the videos ‘Atelier Raggio De Luce’, (PUBLIMASTER Luca Fornaciar, 2012) and Centro Internazionale Loris Malaguzzi (Centro Internazionale Loris Malaguzzi, 2014), the children are seen exploring various mediums of light, including light boxes, projectors, mirrors, and endless materials to experiment with within those mediums. While experimenting in such a fun and unique way, they are learning mathematics, physics and science. This really demonstrates how much you can do with light, and how the learning possibilities are endless when children are treated as strong and capable learners and given these opportunities.