6011 Assignment 1 by

Big Paint Brush and Yellow paint

s8208542 — 2025-10-02 04:16:55 UTC

As I dragged the large brush loaded with yellow gouche across the page, I wondered how the paint would settle onto the surface. The movement felt rhythmic, my hand pressing and lifting, repeating across the paper. I thought of Kind's (2017) description that “repetition—affecting it and being affected by it—required sustained activity on the part of the paint-child assemblage” (p. 57). My hand, the brush, the paint, and the paper were caught together in this rhythm, not working towards a finished image but always doing and undoing with each motion. I felt resistance of the paint dragging, leaving ridges that shifted how I moved, keeping me inside this process of repeating and transformation.

Reference
Kind, S. (2017). Paint assemblage. In V. Pacini-Ketchabaw, S. Kind, & L. L. M. Kocher, Encounters with materials in early childhood education (pp. 53–67). Routledge.

Orange and Red

s8208542 — 2025-10-02 04:29:38 UTC

As I pressed my brush into the red paint and layered orange and yellow over it, I wondered whether the brighter colours would stand out or simply dissapear into the darker based. I thought about how Kind (2017) describes the way paint assemblages continually shift, transform, and even destroy patterns that might seem settled. In my strokes, I noticed that some colours became more visible, while others blurred into the red, refusing to remain distinct. I felt both curious and surprised by how the paint resisted my intention to control it, reminding me that the encounter was not just about my action but the material’s own response.

Reference
Kind, S. (2017). Paint assemblage. In V. Pacini-Ketchabaw, S. Kind, & L. L. M. Kocher, Encounters with materials in early childhood education (pp. 53–67). Routledge.

Knife with dark blue paint

s8208542 — 2025-10-02 04:32:47 UTC

As I dragged the blunt edge of the butter knife through the thick layers of paint, I wondered what would be uncovered beneath the surface. The knife cut through the red and yellow strokes, leaving ridges of dark blue that contrasted with the underpainting. I felt a sense of satisfaction watching the paint peel back, creating new textures where colour met resistance. I thought about Pacini-Ketchabaw, Kind, and Kocher’s (2017) reminder that noticing includes “the doing and undoing—filling, emptying, sweeping, covering, uncovering” (p. 35). Scraping with the knife did not erase my earlier marks; instead, it uncovered something else, transforming the page into a layered record of making and unmaking.

Reference
Pacini-Ketchabaw, V., Kind, S., & Kocher, L. L. M. (2017). Encounters with materials in early childhood education. Routledge.

Using a leaf

s8208542 — 2025-10-02 04:42:18 UTC

When I pressed the leaf into watery paint for the first time, I wondered if its veins and edges would leave a crisp mark on the page. Instead, the excess water blurred the impression, making it faint and unclear. I felt slightly frustrated but also curious, so I tried again with thicker paint. This time, the leaf created a strong negative space, its shape and texture clearly transferred onto the paper. I thought about Stengers’ idea that “an attachment is an event” (as cited in Pacini-Ketchabaw, Kind, & Kocher, 2017, p. 69). The leaf, paint, and paper came together in that moment to form a temporary but powerful connection, showing how different materials respond to each other in the encounter.

Reference
Pacini-Ketchabaw, V., Kind, S., & Kocher, L. L. M. (2017). Encounters with materials in early childhood education. Routledge.

Wearing down the paper

s8208542 — 2025-10-02 04:46:14 UTC

As I pressed my finger into the dried paint and moved it in circular motions, I wondered what would happen if I pushed past the surface. The pressure caused the top layer to peel away, uncovering traces of red and yellow that had been hidden. I felt fascinated watching the earlier colours reappear, as if the page was revealing its own history of marks. I thought about Pacini-Ketchabaw, Kind, and Kocher’s (2017) description that “movement with paper is both rhythm and repetition—the doing and undoing—filling, emptying, sweeping, covering, uncovering” (p. xx). This act of peeling was an undoing that also became a new making, reminding me that the surface of paint is never final but always in transformation.

Reference
Pacini-Ketchabaw, V., Kind, S., & Kocher, L. L. M. (2017). Encounters with materials in early childhood education. Routledge.

Materials used in the creative process

s8208542 — 2025-10-02 04:48:54 UTC

12 colour gouche paint set
3 different sized paint brushes
Leaf and flower
Orange peel
Rock
Butter knife
Sketch pad
Tissues
Paper
Earbuds

Fingerprints and Lilac paint

s8208542 — 2025-10-02 04:54:51 UTC

When I brushed paint across my skin, I wondered how the texture of my hand would imprint onto the page. The cold sensation of the brush felt soothing, and I noticed how the dry bristles picked up the lines of my skin. Pressing my painted index finger onto the paper, I realised the first print was too thick to show detail, but the second press revealed the ridges of my fingerprint alongside traces of other colours. I thought about Stengers’ claim that “an attachment is an event” (as cited in Pacini-Ketchabaw, Kind, & Kocher, 2017, p. 69). In that moment, paint, skin, and paper became entangled, leaving behind impressions that recorded both my body’s texture and the paint’s material presence.

Reference
Pacini-Ketchabaw, V., Kind, S., & Kocher, L. L. M. (2017). Encounters with materials in early childhood education. Routledge.

Painting on skin

s8208542 — 2025-10-02 04:58:18 UTC

When I painted over the mehendi design on my skin, I wondered how the raised patterns would interact with the paint. The paint felt streaky and slightly ashy as it dried, clinging unevenly to the textured lines of the design. I felt both curious and uncomfortable, noticing how the material responded differently on skin compared to paper. I thought about Haraway’s reminder that “it matters what stories tell stories” (as cited in Pacini-Ketchabaw, Kind, & Kocher, 2017, p. 69). The encounter between paint and mehendi told its own story, one of contrast between the body’s living surface and the drying material.

Reference
Pacini-Ketchabaw, V., Kind, S., & Kocher, L. L. M. (2017). Encounters with materials in early childhood education. Routledge.

Using an Orange peel as a stamp

s8208542 — 2025-10-02 05:02:28 UTC

When I pressed the textured peel of an orange into paint, I wondered what kind of pattern it would leave behind. At first, I used white paint, but it almost disappeared on the paper and left no clear trace. I felt slightly disappointed, but when I tried again with red paint, I saw how the colour revealed the peel’s unique textures, producing a bold and patterned impression. I thought about Pacini-Ketchabaw, Kind, and Kocher’s (2017) reminder that “every encounter with materials involves decisions about what, and in what way, to notice” (p. 89). The shift from white to red paint showed me that noticing is not just about the action but about what colours and materials allow us to see and make visible.

Reference
Pacini-Ketchabaw, V., Kind, S., & Kocher, L. L. M. (2017). Encounters with materials in early childhood education. Routledge.

Adventures of a rock

s8208542 — 2025-10-02 05:08:14 UTC

When I coated the rock in thick green paint, I wondered what kind of impression its uneven surface would leave. Pressing it firmly onto the page, I felt the weight of the rock transfer blobs of colour that were heavy and textured. Curious to see what would happen, I watered the paint down and used the rock again, this time spreading it gently across the paper. The paint bled into fine, watery lines, crisp at the edges yet unpredictable in their flow. While I worked, I was listening to rock music, and I noticed how the rhythm of the song seemed to influence the way my hand moved with the rock. I thought of Pacini-Ketchabaw, Kind, and Kocher’s (2017) description of movement as “both rhythm and repetition—the doing and undoing—filling, emptying, sweeping, covering, uncovering” (p. xx). The encounter became more than paint on paper—it was an assemblage of body, sound, rock, water, and colour, all shaping each other in motion.

Reference
Kind, S. (2017). Paint assemblage. In V. Pacini-Ketchabaw, S. Kind, & L. L. M. Kocher, Encounters with materials in early childhood education (pp. 53–67). Routledge.

A flower as a brush

s8208542 — 2025-10-02 05:14:53 UTC

When I picked up a small flower to use as a brush, I wondered if its petals would sweep the paint lightly across the paper. Instead, the flower was too fragile, and the bud broke off under pressure. I felt a moment of disappointment, but then I noticed how the broken petals smeared the paint in soft, unexpected strokes. I thought of Kind’s (2017) reminder that encounters with paint assemblages are “open and unpredictable,” challenging the usual ways of knowing (p. 53). The flower did not behave like a brush; it reshaped the encounter, showing me how fragility can create a different kind of mark-making.

Reference
Kind, S. (2017). Paint assemblage. In V. Pacini-Ketchabaw, S. Kind, & L. L. M. Kocher, Encounters with materials in early childhood education (pp. 53–67). Routledge.

Finger blending

s8208542 — 2025-10-02 05:20:16 UTC

When I set aside the brush and used my fingertips to blend the colours, I wondered how smoothly they would mix without the barrier of a tool. The paint spread easily under my touch, and I felt the cool, smooth texture pressing against my skin. The colours merged seamlessly into one another, creating soft gradients where once there had been clear boundaries. I thought about Kind’s (2017) idea that encounters with paint are “embodied and relational,” unfolding through the connections between people, bodies, and materials (p. 53). Blending with my fingers reminded me that my own body was not separate from the process, but part of the assemblage shaping the colours’ meeting.

Reference
Kind, S. (2017). Paint assemblage. In V. Pacini-Ketchabaw, S. Kind, & L. L. M. Kocher, Encounters with materials in early childhood education (pp. 53–67). Routledge.

Knife and black paint

s8208542 — 2025-10-02 05:21:39 UTC

When I spread black paint over the blended colours with a butter knife, I wondered how the dark layer would change the bright surface beneath. As I dragged the blade across the page, I felt the sharp resistance of the knife against the paper and saw the black paint cut into textured lines. The new marks disrupted the smoothness of the earlier blend, exposing ridges and streaks that transformed the page’s surface. I thought about Pacini-Ketchabaw, Kind, and Kocher’s (2017) idea that noticing involves “coverings and uncoverings, makings and remakings, comings and goings” (p. 89). Scraping with the knife was not only about adding; it was an uncovering that re-made the image through tension and contrast.

Reference
Pacini-Ketchabaw, V., Kind, S., & Kocher, L. L. M. (2017). Encounters with materials in early childhood education. Routledge.

The journey in a tissue

s8208542 — 2025-10-02 05:27:32 UTC

As I was packing up at the end of the session, I noticed the tissues I had used to wipe my brushes. I wondered how something so incidental—meant only for cleaning—had turned into its own colourful record of the day. The tissue was crumpled, wet, and layered with stains of red, green, blue, and black, each mark left behind as a trace of my encounters with paint. I felt surprised and amused by how beautiful it looked, even though it wasn’t something I had intended to make. I thought about Tsing’s notion of “the serious work of noticing” (2013, as cited in Pacini-Ketchabaw, Kind, & Kocher, 2017, p. 89). The tissue reminded me that noticing doesn’t only happen in the main act of painting—it also appears in the overlooked, peripheral moments that materials leave behind.

Reference
Pacini-Ketchabaw, V., Kind, S., & Kocher, L. L. M. (2017). Encounters with materials in early childhood education. Routledge.