MICHELLE CURRY WRIGHT

Category: Deep Stuff, Sort Of

  • RDHTMOM meditation

    Telluride Daily Planet, Sunday, May 15, 2016 Recent sighting: a little red Chevy with the license plate RDHTMOM. Behind the wheel is a 40-something brunette with a medium bob and bangs. Take a deep breath as you grip the steering wheel, and squeeze hard, hard as you can. Harder. Harder still. Aaaaand release. Feel the blood flow…

  • Path of The Country Bunny

    Telluride Daily Planet, Sunday, December 12, 2015 Dear Santa, Here’s my Christmas list. Actually, in preamble, I have to admit that I have been thinking about the Easter Bunny lately — more specifically, the one portrayed in my favorite book of all time, “The Country Bunny and the Little Gold Shoes.” Do you remember it? It’s 1939.…

  • Princess-of-the-world cat meditation

    Telluride Daily Planet, Sunday, August 9, 2015 Sit upright on one of those squares you like. The vintage Navajo rug, or the laptop case, or one of the placemats they hate you sitting on, smack in the middle of the dining room table. There is no one at home now, no one to try to make…

  • Fly by

    Telluride Daily Planet, Sunday, July 6, 2014 The 4th of July Thunderbirds usually get me thinking – as I get all choked up — about graduation from college, and about the sheer, welling gratitude in my heart that my father did not make me apply to the Air Force Academy the first year women were to…

  • It’s moving me

    Telluride Daily Planet, Sunday, May 25, 2014 My mother loved to tell people how good it felt to finally settle into our Seattle house after having moved 11 times in 17 years. Not just because of the house, whose mahogany doors and brass fixtures I still dream about. But because, as the wife of an…

  • Clean surface before applying meaning! (From the metaphorground series)

    Telluride Daily Planet, Sunday, July 21, 2013 Today I wake up and it’s like being on Mars. It is being on Mars, rather, because I can’t see a single simile as I scan the new day, from the ripening, blossoming flower of the sun to the gauzy veil of dust motes hanging on the curtain…