P. D. Murray
Murray is an accomplished painter and writer.
Through 2010, he was shown exclusively by Treehouse Studio Galleries. His work hangs in private collections around the world. He's also published 5 books. You can see more at www.pdmurray.art
Right before all hell broke loose at Corky’s Double R Hideaway and Grill, Slim Riggins was deploying his favorite bar trick. He sidled up to a group of pretty rodeo girls, hitched his Dickie overalls up over his massive belly, and croaked at one.
You ask me “What is your favorite flower?” I pretend to hesitate. I want to give you the impression that I am carefully considering your question because I am aware that answering instantly might generate the appearance that I am not significantly interested in you or your question. I use the time to formulate my response to what I predict your next question will be, one which will require more work on my part to answer.
I killed a goldfinch yesterday. I felt nothing. Well, that’s not entirely true; the moment before I struck it, I felt something like lust. I envisioned the stupid bird split open, blood seeping through its brightly ruffed throat, and I was aroused. But then, after the murder, as with all of my killings, I felt nothing. Certainly not remorse.
At first, I feel bad for the iguana. I’m almost surprised that the drone tagged it. On infra, it’s barely yellow; just a tepid, scrawny blob clinging to a vine, suspended over brutal surf. For all I know, it’s the last of its kind in the New Grenada Atolls.
paper, scissors, happy
I've always loved how creative stage design, even with a minimum of materials, can build a magical world. My current craft is inspired by this art form, sculpting painted paper to make small dreamscapes that transport me to my happiest of places.
Making a Beautiful Mess
I’ve been passionate about making art pretty much since the day I discovered crayons and walls. Ever since, even while raising a family and carving out a career as a creative advertising professional, I’ve managed to produce artwork in a wide range of media. Today, I find myself fortunate enough to have a modest following of online followers, dedicated patrons, and a beautiful studio in a converted wood mill.
In the slow drip of last February In the sterile chair As my body sipped from the IV, A colony of cells diminished
Clean Like You're Dying
Look, I’m sorry. But I’m not going to tell you how to organize your batteries. How to wrangle your wire coat hanger problem. How to tackle your attics or basements, or any of those dark morasses of debris and memory.