Clay Exploration by

Holding clay in my hand

ridazeb — 2025-10-02 09:24:34 UTC

With a lump of clay in my hands, I first began exploring its properties, it was somewhat moist, making it easy to mold. The coolness and stickiness of the clay quickly captured my interest. I observed how it gradually adapted to the contours of my hands pushing back, pushing down. Its texture encouraged me to experiment by poking, squishing, and stretching. This aligns with the observation that clay "moves, wobbles, weeps, sticks, shrinks" (Pacini-Ketchabaw et al., 2016, p. 56). I felt a connection with the clay, which even before I attempted to shape it further, seemed to express a sense of existence and energy.

Pressing clay flat

ridazeb — 2025-10-02 09:40:50 UTC

As I pressed and flattened the clay, I noticed fine lines emerging on its surface, revealing a narrative of an organic material undergoing change. In some areas, the clay resisted being flattened, showcasing its inherent texture and tension. While squeezing on more water helped the surface become somewhat smoother and with less crispy edges, I still noticed some surface cracks. This also connected with the text: "once clay is dry and hard, it shrinks” (Pacini-Ketchabaw et al., 2016, p. 56). I recognized the cracks to be a reminder that clay pushes back and has its own agency, revealing itself at the same time as I was trying to manipulate it.

Introduction and Materials

ridazeb — 2025-10-02 09:49:51 UTC

For this creative exploration task, I selected clay as my primary material, alongside twigs and leaves gathered from the environment. These materials were chosen because they are directly entangled with clay, offering opportunities for imprinting, folding, and attachment. Pacini-Ketchabaw, Kind, and Kocher (2016) describe clay as “incredibly versatile” yet demanding, as it “shrinks, cracks,and transforms” (p. 56). Through playing with clay, twigs, and leaves, I explored how these materials communicate, interact, and create small ecologies of practice.

Imprinting a leaf in clay

ridazeb — 2025-10-02 09:53:47 UTC

When I pressed a leaf into the clay, I saw the delicate outlines of the veins and captured details of the leaf’s surface. When I pressed the clay gently around the leaf, I could see and feel the distinction between the leaf and the clay’s soft body and structure. This represented attachments: that is where "pine needles, sticks, rocks, moss, soil, leaves, twigs, fingers stick to clay" (Pacini-Ketchabaw et al., 2016, p. 59). The leaf and clay co-created their own forms, in a texture exchange that felt alive, as each left the traces of its being in the other.

Adding twigs into clay

ridazeb — 2025-10-02 09:59:04 UTC

I pressed twigs into the clay and could feel both the resistance and formation of a pattern when the twigs partially sank and partially rested above the surface. Water had lightly softened the clay, assisting me in learning to embed the twigs, while keeping the impressions visible. Some twigs left linear patterns while others settled into bends, providing the clay with direction and rhythm. As mentioned in the work of Stengers, this aligned with notions of folding materials and experiences folded into one another, where each folded their "histories and continuations" upon one another (Stengers et al., 2009, as cited in Pacini-Ketchabaw et al., 2016, p. 63). I learned how materials fold together, leaving traces of histories and texture on one another in the process.

Merging clay, twigs, and leaves

ridazeb — 2025-10-02 10:08:52 UTC

The combination of clay, twigs, and leaves formed rich, layered textures that appeared both natural and lively. Water facilitated a subtle blending of the materials, resulting in small ecological arrangements with overlapping textures. This resonated with Haraway’s (2015) observation that “it matters what stories tell stories, it matters what worlds world worlds” (as cited in Pacini-Ketchabaw et al., 2016, p. 61). The merger created modest yet meaningful ecologies, illustrating how materials engage and coexist, creating intricate networks of texture, form, and memory.

Tearing and reshaping clay with natural elements

ridazeb — 2025-10-02 10:17:24 UTC

As I ripped the clay apart and reassembled it, the leaf fragments and twigs incorporated into the clay altered its texture, producing both raised and indented surfaces, while the impressions of the twigs remained visible. Water aided in slightly reshaping the clay and keeping it cohesive throughout this process. This aligned with the notion that “clay never stays the same. It collects things. It morphs” (Pacini-Ketchabaw et al., 2016, p. 59). I observed how even minor alterations changed its appearance, highlighting the clay’s receptiveness and continual transformation.

Merging clay with natural material

ridazeb — 2025-10-02 10:19:06 UTC

Rolling the clay into smaller pieces

ridazeb — 2025-10-02 10:31:11 UTC

I rolled small pieces of clay around my fingers, out of curiosity I tried rolling it at different pressures and speeds. Some sections resisted being shaped to make a rectangular flat, holding a round shape, and others would stretch into small strings of thin trails or would break apart with a slight touch of my fingers. clay was responsive to my manipulation, in some instances it seemed supportively "pushing back" and in others it seemed to be "giving into" my touch based on its moisture and textures. Each piece retained minute traces of previous encounters, such as fingerprints in the clay, or tiny impressions from leaves and twigs in the clay - each told tiny stories, showing "clay never stays the same. It collects things. It morphs" (Pacini-Ketchabaw et al., 2016, p. 59). It also brought attention to the sensitive nature of clay to touch as I manipulated the material and realized my repeated interaction slowly alters the clay.

Adding water to clay

ridazeb — 2025-10-02 10:32:17 UTC

As I poured water on the clay, the surface softened, and it took on a glistening state. Small droplets collected and sat momentarily before being absorbed. There were parts of the clay that felt slippery, while others felt tacky when I was pushing my fingers into the clay surface. As I observed the clay, it moved in ways that were unpredictable, it stretched just slightly and then returned to its original state when I pushed. I recognized this is similar to the idea of clay that “weeps” and sometimes shifts, never settled long but changing (Pacini-Ketchabaw et al., 2016, p. 56). Adding water also revealed its subtle textures, such as when the small crack patterns darkened or when, as I said before, leaf and twig impressions became slightly more defined. This indicated how even small changes in the material would alter the behaviours of the clay.

Letting clay dry

ridazeb — 2025-10-02 10:37:35 UTC

As I let the clay remain untouched for a while, I noticed certain changes over time. Its surface drew tighter, edges pulled away, and the lines from earlier imprints became deeper. The drying stages lead me to contemplate the state of clay that is constantly in flux, echoing the reading: "clay shrinks once it is dry and hard; when it cracks, it is dust again" (Pacini-Ketchabaw et al., 2016, p. 56). Even when sitting still, the clay continued to shift, signifying the agency of the material beyond or without my engagement.

Layering clay with leaves and twigs

ridazeb — 2025-10-02 10:43:38 UTC

Instead of pressing in the leaves and twigs, I layered soft clay over them. The layering allowed the objects to sit partially buried beneath, rolling unevenly over the added objects. I could see tiny bumps or gentle outlines of twigs and leaf veins pushing up through the clay surface below. The layered clay created a tactile landscape, the movement between what is hidden and what might be exposed. It illustrated how materials create folds of one another, where each layer can carry something of "histories and continuations" (Stenger’s 2009 as cited in Pacini-Ketchabaw et al., 2016, p. 63). The layering process reinforced that the clay is not just a passive substrate, but an active player in shaping and being shaped by the objects it encounters

Layering with leaves and twigs

ridazeb — 2025-10-02 10:44:35 UTC

Breaking clay into powder

ridazeb — 2025-10-02 10:50:12 UTC

As I broke apart the dried clay, it broke into smaller pieces, then powdered as it dispersed on the surface. Little reminders of the memory scattered like dust on the surface. The impressions of leaves and twigs were still faint in the powder, but alluded to previous events and moments shared with the clay, demonstrating that traces remain even in a state of destruction. The fragility and transformation of something into nothing amplified my thinking about the process of existence in time and space, reflecting the statement, “it breaks apart, and returns to dust” (Pacini-Ketchabaw et al., 2016, p. 56). Crumbling was both an end and a continum providing further evidence of clay's continual change.

Reference

ridazeb — 2025-10-02 10:58:56 UTC

Pacini-Ketchabaw, V., Kind, S., & Kocher, L. L. M. (2016). Encounters with materials in early childhood education. Taylor & Francis Group. https://ebookcentral.proquest.com/lib/vu/reader.action?c=UERG&docID=4649662&ppg=69