
Recently one of my teen groups took an interest in harvesting
      wild clay, and decided to try refining it.
      
      When we dig up the clay, it's not only quite crumbly, but also
      full of rocks, dirt, forest detritus and sand.
      
      So over a period of a few weeks, these teens processed some of our
      local clay into a lovely smooth sculpting medium, and I thought
      I'd share the simple method they used. 
      
      We have easily-accessible clay all over our island, appearing in
      creeks and gullies, and dumped in shiny blue mountains when we
      excavate for wells and the like. This clay came from a very small creek. The group found mostly green clay, with a few pockets of a
      gorgeous pale blue-grey clay that was quite pure already. They
      used spoons, stones, a trowel and shovels to scrape their harvest
      from just above the water level, and found various benefits to
      each. It seems that the best way to collect the clay is to scrape
      it gently, dragging the side of a spoon, rock, or shovel along as
      you might drag your hand across bed linens to smooth them. The
      reason for this is that any digging into the clay removes chunks
      of crumbly clay that are quite difficult to grind or squish into a
      smooth lump. Scraping not only pushes water into the top layer,
      but pulls off such a small wet layer at a time that the resulting
      clay is much softer and doesn't require grinding or squishing to
      render it moldable.
      
      Much of what the group collected was in fact crumbling and needed
      grinding, so once they had nearly half a bucket full, they used
      hands, a potato masher, and a shovel to grind it up until it was a
      nice heavy sludge. Some rocks and twigs were already coming out of
      it, and they removed those right away.
      
      Then they left the clay slop in the bucket, undisturbed, where it
      settled out. After a week, we returned to find the rocks settled
      to the bottom, the sandiest clay above that, the smoother clay
      slip above that, and the water on top. At this point the group
      poured the water off the top, and the cleanest slip (about forty
      or fifty pounds worth) they poured into an old pillow case and
      hung up over the creek to settle again, and dry.
    
    
    When we returned after another week, the clay hadn't dried as much
    as we hoped it would in the pillow case, but had settled nicely
    again, a layer of heavy sandy clay on the bottom, smooth sloppy clay
    in the middle, and slip on top. We easily scooped the best quality
    clay from the top of that in the bag and divided it among us.
Most of the group chose to use their sloppy clay to paint with, but
    some of us brought some home, where it will dry a little more (on a
    cloth-covered board) until it's a good working consistency.
    
    Although this activity was, as usual, conceived by the group, I
    delighted in facilitating, and in seeing so many positive learning
    outcomes of the process. Most obviously, group working skills were
    developed, but so too were skills of problem-solving, improvisation,
    and process development. Working hands-on promotes a deeper
    understanding of the nature of this ecosystem, its constituents, and
    its changeability. When you separate out the layers of the forest
    floor you become familiar with it in a way that is deeper than mere
    description and images can convey. History, ecology, and engineering
    are integrated. And of course, when you're doing this exploratively,
    you are engaged through the process of genuine discovery. This
    activity was also a great opportunity to change a material that we
    regularly walk over without concern through a process of very simple
    refinement into a material that many people purchase in plastic
    bags. I think this not only strengthens our connection to
    wilderness, but also to our own ingenuity. Together these are part
    of what makes us human.