Public Notes


Recent Activity

  • Robin shared from Kitchen Boy by Sanford Phippen
    Such was the depth of my good servant’s complex, and lifelong working class training: always fearful of being let go, of being found wanting, of getting a bad reputation, always willing to serve and to do a good job, no matter what, and never questioning my boss to her face.
  • Robin shared from The Lost Wife by Alyson Richman
    Although I never uttered another word about Auschwitz to my family, I still dreamed of it. If you have lived through such a hell, it never leaves you. Like the smell of the crematorium that is forever in the back of my nose, my dreams of Auschwitz are always at the back of my mind, despite all the efforts I’ve made to push them away.
  • Robin shared from The Lost Wife by Alyson Richman
    And I saw for the first time how, despite the isolation of our own lives, we are always connected to our ancestors; our bodies hold the memories of those who came before us, whether it is in the features we inherit or a disposition that is etched into our soul.
  • Robin shared from The Lost Wife by Alyson Richman
    But in order to survive in this foreign world, I had to teach myself that love was very much like a painting. The negative space between people was just as important as the positive space we occupy. The air between our resting bodies, and the breath in between our conversations, were all like the white of the canvas, and the rest our relationship—the laughter and the memories—were the brushstrokes applied over time.
  • Robin shared from The Lost Wife by Alyson Richman
    I often wonder if it’s the curse of old age, to feel young in your heart while your body betrays you.
(Tampa Bay, FL)
Robin Shwedo