I write to connect to the place between the tip of my pen and where the inked letters on the page reunite me to my reader self.

I write to resurrect a long ago summer when as pre-teen I read Shakespeare: I understood almost nothing, but the moment, something woke my mind.

I write to conjure the summer night when a teenager, I read Jane Eyre by candlelight on a sofa in our Pleasant Avenue, East Harlem tenement during the first New York City blackout.


I write to speak

I speak to have a voice

In the narrative conversation


I write for a sense of connection to

A sensual body/mind experience

Like as Owsley Acid trip

Only softer


I write to feel whole

Somewhat intact

Citizen in the world

I write to READ.

Published by: deborahdibari

Escape from the human realization of earthly and bodily confinement has inspired greatness and savagery. My conflict often gives way to delight in each twist and turn of narrow cobbled streets despite my rejection of foundational narratives supporting the systemic oppression by the church and state. My experiences in Europe, living in Rome and extensive visits for work, leisure and exploration are the frame for my writing.