MICHELLE CURRY WRIGHT

Category: Deep Stuff, Sort Of

  • Crucible year

    Telluride Daily Planet, Sunday, January 20, 2013 Here’s a theory (I made it up): The theory is that every person has a crucible year, a year during which certain key elements come together and alchemize from the soft-ish stuff of undigested life into a brand new compound, a hard bright crystalline nugget through which all…

  • Elegy

    Telluride Daily Planet Sunday, September 16, 2012 Dear Tooth Fairy, I’m going the public route with this letter — since I doubt you’d think to look for one under my pillow — even if I had a tooth to include with it. I’ll say right up front, though, that I tend to see your mission…

  • Rapt, wrapped, rapped

    Telluride Daily Planet Sunday, August 19, 2012 The most beautiful emotion we can experience is the mystical. It is the power of all true art and science. He to whom this emotion is a stranger, who can no longer wonder and stand rapt in awe, is as good as dead. To know that what is…

  • Rudraksha

    Telluride Daily Planet, Sunday, March 25, 2012 It is 1983 and hot, sticky summertime in New York, and the six-person ad agency where I work is empty except for me, the girl who answers the phone, buys radio time and waits for ad copywriting scraps like a dog on its hind legs. When the front…

  • Sink or Swim

    Telluride Daily Planet, Tuesday, July 26, 2011 Amid recent personal upheaval and loss, I have spent days and weeks sifting through papers, photos, memorabilia, searching for things I cannot find, among them a set of Xeroxes of photos of my family boarding a ship. The original photos, sent to a glossy magazine in the mid-‘90s…

  • I scream, you scream, we all scream for primal scream

    Telluride Daily Planet, Tuesday, September 14, 2010 A recent fling with bicycle riding has left me feeling euphoric and impervious to injury of late, which is a dangerous state in the world of exercise, anyone here can tell you that. After hard rides (for a 50-something), I come home coasting on endorphins, and the thought…