Woodwork by Paul K

One Jay

I whittled this. As a young boy my most prized possession was a Jay’s feather. I remember the blue flash catching my eye from the leaf litter on the forest floor. It was a window into a different world, so visually rich. Often heard but rarely seen. Through picking up these jigsaw puzzle pieces my curiosity grew, poring over library books for a bigger picture. The speckled markings of an egg shell. The delicate structure of an abandoned nest. They never really change. I often see no further than their graphic simplicity. A constant source of wonder and inspiration.

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