Leah Murray

Contact Leah
artist & writer

Leah Murray was born in British Columbia. With a father in the military, she and her mother and three younger brothers travelled to postings across Canada, Europe and the USA. She attended Queen’s University, where she earned an Honours BA in English Language and Literature. Her work has since been published in a number of Canadian literary magazines. Romancing the Buzzard is her first novella. Leah lives with her daughter in Kingston, Ontario. They are both vegetarians.

  • Nothing Is Solid

    Acrylic on Canvas
    10" x 20"

    $75

  • Making the Wish

    Acrylic on Canvas
    14" x 11"

    $85

  • Your Sadness Convinced Me

    Acrylic on Canvas
    18" x 24"

    $100

  • I Remember What I Wore

    Acrylic on Canvas
    20" x 24"

    $125

  • I Lose My Shadow

    Acrylic on Canvas
    12" x 12"

    $100

  • Io Comes Late

    Acrylic on Canvas
    18" x 24"

    $150

  • Too Far Seeing into Space
    Exhibited in the Kingston Juried Art Salon

    Acrylic on Canvas
    11" x 14"

    $200

  • Broken Windows

    Acrylic on Canvas
    16" x 20"

    $125

  • Everything I Know is Hypothetical

    Acrylic on Canvas
    8" x 8"

    $50

  • Did I Dream You

    Acrylic on Canvas
    12" x 12"

    $50

  • We Dream About Signals

    Acrylic on Canvas
    12" x 12"

    $50

  • I Look For You

    Acrylic on Canvas
    20" x 24"

    $175

  • History of the Creeps

    Acrylic on Canvas
    20" x 24"

    $175

  • I Was a Leaf Rustling

    Acrylic on Canvas
    18" x 24"

    $125

  • Rounding Jupiter's Curve

    Acrylic on Canvas
    18" x 24"

    $125

  • Not a Tremble But a Tremor

    Acrylic on Canvas
    8" x 10"

    $75

  • Slowly Crumbled into the Lake

    Acrylic on Canvas
    14" x 18"

    $100

  • You Hang in the Sky Like
    the Darkness Hangs

    Acrylic on Canvas
    24" x 24"

    $200

  • The Invention of Radar

    Acrylic on Canvas
    8" x 10"

    $75

  • Your Perfect Atomic Clock

    Acrylic on Canvas
    8" x 10"

    $50

  • When Everything Disappeared into the Darkness

    Acrylic on Canvas
    14" x 18"

    $100

  • The Sun Will Die

    Acrylic on Canvas
    20" x 24"

    $150

  • Border of the Known and
    the Unknown

    Pencil on Paper
    9" x 12"

    $35

  • I Fold

    Pencil Crayon on Paper
    11" x 8.5"

    $35

  • Capture and Reflect Light

    Pencil Crayon on Paper
    11" x 8.5"

    $35

  • Am I Accurate or Mistaken

    Pencil Crayon on Paper
    11" x 8.5"

    $35

  • The Galaxies Leave Me

    Pencil Crayon on Paper
    11" x 8.5"

    $35

  • Forever

    Pencil Crayon on Paper
    8.5" x 11"

    $35

  • No match

    Pencil Crayon on Paper
    8.5" x 11"

    $35

  • An amazing man falls into the author’s life. But then he isolates her. He grinds her down. Until finally, in his mind, she has been replaced by an impostor. In a mix of poetry, prose, and court testimony, Romancing the Buzzard is a true story of redemption turned dark star.




  • This is a love story. This is a horror story. It is an examination of mental illness written with lyric beauty and it is a factual and cold recounting of a public trial. I came away from the reading shocked and saddened but grateful for this memoir, with all its tenderness and terror. If you want to understand how anyone can fall too deeply in love, read this book. You won’t forget it.

    Carolyn Smart
    Author of "Hooked - Seven Poems"

  • Using words like pinpricks of light, Leah Murray’s writing illuminates dread constellations above a landscape darkened by fear and desire – treacherous at one end with careful-what-you-wish-for, and then tilted, crazily, towards a harrowing escape. 

    Darryl Joel Berger
    Author of Punishing Ugly Children

  • Leah Murray’s Romancing the Buzzard is a powerful story of a woman caught under the wheels of a fate she seemed to have chosen. Told through the many voices of love and obsession, of need and delusion, the narrative relentlessly captures the two people at the heart of this story, driven by their demons. And under it all, a small spirit tries to make itself heard.

    Laurie Lewis
    Author of Little Comrades

  • Excerpts

  • And then he comes to me in my girlhood sleep, my tender kind murderer, my bad saint. My giver of solace, my inflictor of despair. My albatross, my vulture. The one who fills and then empties, the one who adores and then does not. The one who levels me, pins me down and sweats into my eyes, the one who razes me to the ground, remorseless, my Tunguska fireball, because, he “has to,” he says. He “has no choice.” This is the only way for me, his new green shoot, to nudge my head up through the dark dirt into the approval of his shining sun face. My guilty protector and my innocent offender. My lover and my assailant. My husband, my executioner.

  • the call to adventure: frog

    1.
    unflinching

    my amphibious
    skin glistens, blisters, as once
    tepid water boils

    2.
    still smelling of warm round gold

    my newly bereft
    hands wait for a frog, the width
    and breadth of my tongue

  • The violence lessening when I stop defending myself, I give in to whatever it is he wants me to go along with, give up my own words and echo his: that he has been specially appointed by God to save the planet, and that I am the filthy whore, the stain on his otherwise perfect light. Wearing his own hair and fingernail clippings in a pouch around his neck, a sacred medicine bundle, “to trick them,” he says, to fool the demons into attacking it instead of him, he is happy when I willingly surrender my clothing to him so he can burn it in a smudging ceremony, another temporary fix, just one more in an endless stream of useless offerings and appeasements.

  • Shams of Tabriz

    Suntanned, sunflower
    -faced, so lit me with glances,
    I fell to the ground.

       Layers of my skin
       flamed and peeled off; face, forehead,
       eyelids, like wet lace.

    Then gave me water:
    the burn victim falls in love
    with her rescuer.

       Despite igniting
       me in the first place, for that
       was the greater gift.