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Under the skin, feel the bones of creativity.

This space in the cloud holds the collected artwork of Jessica Haight. All artwork presented has been crafted by hand with love.


  • Meditative Drawing: #2 pencil, regular copy paper

  • Microscopic Modern Art: home microscope, bits of random matter, iphone 8

  • Crystal Creations: model, canvas paper, gems, glue, ink pens

  • Freeform Style Painting: acrylic paint, wood canvas

  • Copper Art & Candles: copper wire, paint, wood, glass jars, magnets, calcite, mirrors, glass, gems, glue

  • Divine Nature Photography: iphone 8, Sony Cybershot, nature 


The Fairday Morrow series is a middle grade mystery series, co-authored with Stephanie Robinson. The next work in progress is the third book in the series, The Master's Emporium; publish date to be announced.

The Crystal Child: Legends is an introduction to a long time work in progress that has been writing itself for many years in my head. 

Thank you for stopping by Cottage #5 and casting your eyes upon my creations. It brings me great joy to share my work with you!

If you are interested in my artwork, please contact me here. 

Additional spots in the cloud to find Jess's creative work

Fairday Morrow Book Blog

Willow Press


cheese moon.jpg
Haight- Bigger Fish in the Quantum Foam.

Microscopic Modern Art 
Materials used: dried blue hydrangea, orange berry, slice of leaf
December 2020


Crystal Creation
Eleanor Skeleton
October 2020



By Jess Haight 


The world had gone mad with stories, so I examined my own. Hum drum of days, in and out. Like breathing. Dew shimmies on leaves; chomping caterpillars hungry for greens. Bees buzz around while I paint my heart, watching colors cover nothing— no thing is the stickiest glue. Truth lies betwixt the lines, and in between those squiggly lines there is emptiness— that’s the truth; the strong force binding story flavor. So subtle, yet powerful. The liminal essence of creation scattered amongst the stars in a vast sea of space. History and Herstory forever smashing together in little bursts of light— lingering like ghosts in the dark. Memories swim asunder in endless pools of thought. A disasterpiece transformed into a masterpiece simply by the love of hearing the other— or vice versa.


There was once a stone that knew who it was.

The stone remembered the story.

The story had a beginning, middle and end@beginning, middle, and end@beginning, middle, and end@…

The beginning was new.

The middle unwound.

And the end was known. 


Who is the stone?

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