Michal's thinking over the prospect of compounding his gallant Fiction Corpus with another collection of top fiction; cites fatigue
Posted:
I think highly of the practicality of legislating English as everybody's second language. I don't regard highly the pleasureless methodology by which English is presented for study.
Enriching a person's skillfulness with a language isn't like bringing about a brighter bead. A language - a spoken tongue - isn't just an instrument that you can teach yourself to use with greater amounts of precision. A shared tongue cannot be dissected from the philosophical currents of a society of which it is a description. A language isn't recited; it happens - and keeps happening as long as a circle of people keeps using it.
Teaching a person to recite English is to rob her of its cultural context. A good educator must prepare a plan for introducing it; the smartest student ventures out to seek it.
A dictionary - properly used - can become an influential tool. The best dictionaries define words based on a particular corpus, a body of writing of varying scope and consistency. They can contain everything from a book about literature to a copious amount of the best fiction books yet. I lost many a night laboring on my "prodigious" Fiction Corpus to form a special type of dictionary based on the ability of one man to tell a story in many different forms. It is a labor of love and listening.
I have constructed a million words and I have anatomized them, reformulating them - not simply to teach an American tongue but to defend the human spirit, and to propel that spirit or soul not just to recite but to happen.
Author's Note: I have been enjoined from sharing the details of my true romance adventure until such time that the other party is prepared to present her perspective on the affair arrangement...
Lots of people go on road trips. Not everybody criss-crosses Europe in 46 days. Especially not with a complete stranger.
I knew naturism was popular in many parts of Europe and as an artist who had worked on body acceptance for his entire career I was keen on documenting some small part of it. Lo and behold, I found a very important part of it hiding in Poland. Her name was Margo.
Being from America, all I had to do in Europe was turn on the radio to hear an American song. All I had to do was walk into a movie theater to see an American movie. To be understood all I had to do was speak English. Being from Poland, she couldn't stand listening to the radio for all the political nonsense being bandied about. She didn't like watching American movies because she claimed they all ended the same way. She didn't want to speak English with me because she not only wanted to say things correctly but she wanted to say them her way and nobody had ever succeeded in teaching her how. I desperately wanted to understand. She wanted to be understood.
Despite the cops in Vienna. Despite the rain in Veržej. Despite getting lost in Italy. Despite parting at Soest. Despite that night in Amsterdam. Despite our fight in Lisieux. Despite the storm in the Bois de la Roche. Despite that terrible morning outside Collonges. Despite the long road to Pielenhofen, we came back safe and sound and most importantly we were happy. We had started to learn how to listen. We had left the devils of the road behind and the devils ahead seemed just a little bit smaller. We had started to open up.
6,000 miles across Europe with a complete stranger
During our trip across Europe, Margo very bravely opened up to me and to the camera. It was a difficult thing to do considering the scars that she carries. I wanted to share with the world her often joyful, often sad, often angry but always liberating experience except that the Internet is full of pictures of naked women and men and full of trolls who abuse them.
I realized that what I really need to point out is not the openness that Margo and I cultivated between ourselves, but the darkness that continues to surround us. When I censor nudity, I do so in a way that does not compromise the integrity of the human body. In censoring the photographs that Margo and I took during our trip, I was quick to notice that in those pictures where Margo was at her most open, at her most unguarded and most relaxed, in a word, when she was herself and basking in the sun I was forced to blacken her completely.
Why does our society drive people into darkness? Why can we not accept ourselves as we are? Why can we not accept our bodies? Have we truly become eunuchs? Or are we capable of defying the sickness that pits us against each other? Together we could conquer the devils that abuse us.
Whether you enjoy being nude or not, whether you've been photographed nude or not, but especially if, for you, like for Margo, it's something you never thought you would do, consider submitting your own photograph to be published in a censored manner as a form of protest against the ubiquitous presence of the human body on the internet, naked or not, that is published and duplicated ad infinitum without context and without regard for the identity or the needs of the individual being depicted.
Michal's Dictionary: Understanding the word Instead
A word can represent many things. First and foremost it represents a type of gesture. A specific way of speaking. A specific way of inscribing a mark. A specific way of moving your hand. To know one of these kinds of gestures is to know how to pronounce the word instead in some kind of way.
If you want to communicate an idea using the word instead, you will need to know what other people are made to think when you make the gesture. You will never have complete awareness of or control over the associations or identities that are invoked by a set of words, but you can know what was and what is a single word's jointly accepted definition, at least for a given place, thereby tracing a direction which will help you to understand what kinds of associations and identities are driving its use.
By using the word yourself, you enter into a long-standing albeit oftentimes unconscious debate over its definition, forever entangling yourself into the history of its use. The way you use it, and which other words you use it with carries weight.
The more you know about where the word instead is located in the fabric of a language, the better you will be at exploiting its cultural power.
Pronunciation of Instead
I have yet to publish a pronunciation for the word instead.
Video of me pronouncing "instead."
Definition of Instead
I have yet to publish the definition of instead.
I'm sure it won't take too long.
Common use of instead in illustrative example sentences
I have yet to come up with another sentence using the word instead.
Audio of me saying the sentence:
I have yet to come up with a third sentence using the word instead.
Audio of me saying the sentence:
I have yet to come up with a fourth sentence using the word instead.
Audio of me saying the sentence:
I have yet to come up with a fifth sentence using the word instead.
Audio of me saying the sentence:
I have yet to come up with a sixth sentence using the word instead.
Audio of me saying the sentence:
I have yet to come up with a seventh sentence using the word instead.
Audio of me saying the sentence:
Usage of Instead in Michal's Fiction Corpus
Michal's Fiction Corpus of Acceptance Literature (FiCAL) is presented under the Bare Bottom imprint. It is currently comprised of six bodies of work, each representing a different pillar of culture and incorporating a wide variety of writhing styles.
I have yet to make a morphological analysis of the word instead.
That doesn't mean it's not high on my list.
Table of Frequency for the Word "Instead."
This table lists in descending order the total number of times that the word insteadand any of its morphological derivations appears in the Fiction Corpus, along with a breakdown of frequency by title, the respective rank of each word in the complete list of all words in the Corpus, as calculated both densely and competitively, as well as the percent increase in frequency of the word over the frequency of the next lowest rank in the complete list.
Percent Increase over next rank
RANK
WORD
Frequency
TOTAL # of occurences
MCDONALDS
JESUS
SEX
TSIGA
JACKSON
DINGBATS
dense
competitive
modern/sloppy
biblical/terse
poetic/high-brow
hard/fast
talky
mixed salad
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
I have yet to publish the table of frequency for the word instead, but I will get to it shortly. -Michal
A story bible for a comic book series set in a post climate-change California narrated by eight characters who live through a natural disaster that sinks Los Angeles and triggers a war with an expansionist Mexican government covertly supported by China.
Frame #4354
to think i was mad when jayce brought her car to san diego instead of mine. if mcdonalds had seen my car it couldve been game over right there.
An experimental science fiction Christology that makes Jesus the hard boiled narrator of his own early years on a bizarro earth made dark by volcanic ash and informally ruled by a man from Mars who sells bottled air.
"He had his friend - his 'cool' friend, who thinks he's hip - ask me if I were having sex. Instead of asking me himself, he had his 'cool' friend do it, in a 'cool' way which wasn't cool at all."
"The fucking military is collaborating - do you understand that? They're ready to shell the city - their own fucking city! Can you believe that? Instead of having the balls to go from house to house looking for those faggots, they're gonna drop shells! What the fuck is that? That's why they're trying to evacuate the Old Town. They're sayin', 'Leave your homes: go north.' They think if they evacuate Center City and Old Town by having all those people filter through the northern checkpoints, all they're gonna have left is terrorists. That's bullshit. Unless they say they're gonna shell it, not everyone's gonna leave. Not the old people, anyway: they're gonna sit at home until the radio says they're gonna drop shells - even then they're not gonna move. Anyway, who the fuck's gonna say that? That would be idiotic. That would be like saying, 'Hey, terrorists: wake up for the invasion' - so they can slip away? What the fuck is that? The only terrorist you can recognize is the one that's shooting at you. Otherwise, who the fuck is it? Nobody - it's somebody without papers - I don't know - somebody walkin' off with loot. All they gotta do is drop their weapons and voila: they melt away. It's fuckin' bullshit. It's not fuckin' fair is what it is - but that's life. That's business. Like you, you motherfuckin' pip-squeak: what the fuck is your problem, man? You have got balls to screw me up."
Two weeks later, he accused K-Freight of stealing Dhagbod's oil. He accused K-Freight and other shipping companies of pandering to the United States by conspiring to keep prices low - which was true, since the U.S. had negotiated that deal in order to weaken the Martian government, but which was also making Dhagbod suffer monetarily. Seeking compensation, one of Sadatmo's henchmen insisted that K-Freight and all other shipping companies involved cancel their thirty billion dollars worth of debt owed by Dhagbod. Instead of waiting for negotiations, however, Dhagbod struck, attacking and occupying K-Freight headquarters in orbit around the Earth. This was too much: the Americans were not going to forgive this. Sadatmo had clearly gone too far. They called him a pirate, a renegade, and, whereas before, nobody knew his name, now people were told to fear Sadatmo: the bloodthirsty pirate! the terrible tyrant! the enemy of free trade!
Now, if Jesus had been completely guileless, instead of assuming that victory was his for the taking, he would've asked your mother, considering the encroaching darkness, whether she wanted to return as soon as possible to the high school to pitch her tent (sound advice) or go with him to Hell's Ditch. Knowing your mother, she probably would've said Hell's Ditch anyway (with a name like that, she would've smiled - if not devilishly, then, at least, with knowing embarrassment), but that's beside the point. We shall never know what your mother would've said because Jesus never bothered to ask. Nor did he decide to take the quickest way to Hell's Ditch (Home Army Road) or the second quickest way (the road to Wroclaw), but (considering the encroaching darkness) passing both those streets and going down Peace Defenders' Road, past the Town Park, past the Sanitation Inspector's Office, past the Regional Court, where, several months ago, Jesus had his first and only hearing, and, turning onto Church Road, going past the Church of Sts. Peter and Paul, looking briefly down Linden Flower Road, where, not so long ago, Jesus jumped the Krupnik and started this whole dirty affair, he went through the apartment blocks, crossed Soldiers' of September Street, and, going down Flower Road and turning right on Garden Street, took the absolute longest way to Hell's Ditch from the Sanitarium which could still be called a way.
A few months later, our middle school French class was preparing a field trip to Quebec. Every student was required to bring either a U.S. passport, proof of U.S. citizenship, or a foreign passport with a valid visa. Now, at the time, your father's U.S. passport was in the process of being issued, so, instead of a passport, he was given a Xerox copy of his newly issued U.S. certificate of citizenship. Your father didn't even know he had one. Nobody else did. When he took it out of his backpack, when the bus reached the border, all the other kids wanted to see it.
A literature book narrated by a pair of siblings on either side of the Atlantic whose profoundly weird sexual experiences pose a serious challenge to their traditional understanding of mathematicians, marriage, gay young men and God.
Knowing that Indiana would ask: why the filthy face? I was hoping I could think of some funny story to cheer her up. But when she did ask me, there was no funny story. Instead, I felt foolish. I told her I was closing the fireplace: someone had forgotten to close the flue, and: "I sneezed." She told me to go wash my face. She was ready to insist, but we were already standing by the open door. We left, and that's how we drove home: one black face, one red face. There was very little conversation. We entered the car in silence and that's how it remained. I was pretty sure an explanation was coming at some point, so I wasn't going to fish for it. But I was hoping it would come in the car - because that way, one can always concentrate on the road. I have very little patience for grief, whether it be warranted or not.
"Funny thing about that door," I continued. "Imagine being a woman trapped in a gentleman's club. It's like the opposite of eloping: there is not one man, but many; and instead of being young and impetuous, they are all old and lecherous." This provoked a very modest chuckle; my companion, apparently having satisfied himself with his surroundings, decided to look me in the eye and answer in a most provocative manner, asking me if I would like to elope. I was taken off guard; it took me a moment to realize he meant generally speaking. "Oh heavens no!" I cried. "I would never do something like that. Look at what it brought poor William Hogarth: he was childless all his days."
It was not a windy day for us, but up there high in the sky among the clouds it must have been very windy. There were only a few clouds and they were all very high up, so they must have been moving at tremendous speeds. They were almost as fast as the planes. In fact, as a jet plane would fly by overhead, its cloudy trail would start swinging behind it, as if the plane had been banking a curve instead of going straight.
– Title 3, Regarding a Dream, Chapter 2, The Second Day, Part 1, Labor & Economic Reform, Section 17, Crossing Paths, Paragraph 3, Clauses 1-4
Meanwhile, it was Indiana whose privilege it was to smile triumphantly, and, as you presented yourself as the oblivious newcomer, it was entirely natural for her to turn her head and smile in your direction. I, on the other hand, was busy observing what was going on; there was no stopping my concern for my dear little brother: I heard the joke, and took note of its cleverness - but instead of laughing I turned my eyes to you: to the picture of abject foolishness that presented itself before this new-come beauty.
After Nike left us, we went back to Vinnie's. Before long, the auction started and Luke began reassuring Barbara that he would help jack up the price. I told him to stop being silly; we had only been kidding and if Luke actually started bidding he would only ruin the poor girl's reputation. Instead, I offered my own services: if the need should arrive, I would start a bidding war. Barbara loved the idea. "You'll make all the guys jealous!" she said, and she told me to do it anyway; but I had to laugh because I wasn't really serious when I said it. But before I could say that, something happened and Barbara's attention was taken away. I was left feeling obliged; Barbara's turn was coming up, and just as I was wondering what sort of impression I would make, our collusion was trumped by the two girls in front: they started making out.
A collection of stories featuring a sexy Parisian ghost, a spooky Moon base full of vagina-faced aliens, a policeman with an Irish name, a truck full of watermelons, a flautist, and a man who has to see another man about a diseased horse.
"If that be true, why are we bargaining with daggers and dead horses instead of with gold?"
"It is none of your concern."
"That is where you are mistaken. I am on a holy quest. I cannot be tainted by villainy."
"I am no villain," cried the woman, "unless it be a crime to love. Have you not dispatched your whole family to the underworld? Let me ask me: is that how all your holy quests begin?"
Ferrari might have walked away with his life. Instead, like a true Christian knight, he honored his commitment to his Lady. Breathlessly, Carmina was waiting. Together they crossed the mountains of Matera, shadowing the road south to Catanzaro. At port, they secured passage aboard a Venetian ship. The first mate claimed they were headed for Crete.
Gog sighed. He turned away. The words had been meant to relieve him. Instead, they had cut apart the hole in his heart. He bit his lip. He said, "I neglected my duty. I worked hard to climb that mountain. It was too much to see that I had failed, as if everything I had ever done had been in vain." He stared into Mithra's eyes. His voice deepened. The words seemed to come from the bottom of his soul. He said, "I don't want to turn from the things I believe. I want to follow them. I want to find them."
"The first ones didn't have a choice. Our government forced experimental surgery on them. It's one of the reasons there's so much distrust. At least it made them fight for their rights. Manga People enjoy huge responsibilities now. They don't just work on the power grid, they manage it. The near side relies on them for power. Why do you think we're in the dark instead of them? The Manga People are afraid to let humans suffer. They'd be risking intervention. The truth is they could hold the near side for ransom."
He jumped into the front seat. He cursed himself. He started the engine. He drove down the Reine. He turned left. The road was one way. He passed a road to the right. It was also one way-the wrong way. Luka reached a carrefour. Instead of staying on the same road, he bore to the right. He reached a fork. The road to the right was one way-the wrong way. Luka had to go left. He reached a lake. He almost drove into it.
A real play. With drama in it. Talk fast. It takes two hours. Set in a guest house. In a small community. After a murder. Lots of suspicion. The characters learn to listen to each other. It's funny.
LUKE: I don't want to be the one spillin' secrets, but you might as well know. It all started when her grandmother was raped by the Japanese on Western Samoa.
LESBIAN: During the war?
LUKE: Whenever it was that they occupied the island.
LESBIAN: The Japanese never occupied Western Samoa. They did have plans to invade, but Midway changed all that. They tried to capture Port Moresby instead. Unfortunately for them, what they thought was a motor track turned out to be a mule trail, one which no Australian had dared traverse in over twenty years. They say the Japanese soldiers eventually turned to cannibalism. I thought about doing the hike myself. Five days is a bit much. The dry season was ending. I decided against it.
LUKE: Are you saying the Japanese never invaded Western Samoa?
LESBIAN: I was on Tarawa in the Gilbert Islands. That was as far as they got. You must be confused.
LUKE: I'm not confused; I'm sheepish. It wouldn't be the first time.
LESBIAN: The music box is missing. It looks as though another heirloom's been stolen.
LUKE: I'm not the one who took it: that's for sure. See you at the airport, mate.
– ACT II, lines 574-582
(LESBIAN exits.)
FLETCHER: Judging by the appearance of this parlor, I'm going to have to conclude that this didn't exactly go the way that you had planned. You've got to admit: things could've been a hell of a lot worse. You could be the one on trial for murder instead of that other guy. Not that I mean to disparage your efforts; I admire them. I just think that we should count our blessings and look on the bright side of life. Homo may not be one of the boys, but, in the end, if it makes Mother happy, I'm happy.
– ACT I, lines 1204-1204
ALICE: Interesting.
KOKOMO: Hardly.
ALICE: Why did he leave?
KOKOMO: He was looking for a warmer climate.
ALICE: That makes sense.
KOKOMO: Instead he found my mother. She is a Catholic. He is nothing. She tried to beat it into him. He started beating back. It got bloody. I had never fit well into the tribal network. It was easy for me to leave. Nevertheless, I'd give anything to go back and farm my own land.
A story book full of short fiction stories. An interesting bedtime mystery. A fairy tale. Science fiction romance. Adult life. Uninspiring gay fiction. Horror.
Sir Lewis wasn't surprised by the scores. He rocked the individual competition. If not for his brain-dead team he could've won. One other math genius in his high school was all he needed. Instead he was matched with doofuses.
I learned later that the headman of the village had asked that I be replaced. He had claimed to the Ministry that I was crazy. That I talked to myself. That all the parents in the village were afraid to leave their children with me. I proved him wrong. If not for Putin and my three pupils, I would've been packing my bags for Moscow that very weekend. I would have lived in the village for all of two weeks instead of almost twenty years. I would never have stayed to teach a community of children how to grow up. I would never have married a local Russian girl. I would never have become the village headman. I would never have run for mayor.
I swatted away my mother's hand. Like I would a bug. That's when she threw the remote control. It was the prelude to an all out attack. All of a sudden I was in middle school again. The wimpy Indian kid I had made fun of in music class had come to punch me in the face again. No pain. Just shock at the sheer audacity of it.
If my wife had been present during the incident she would've been on my side. Instead she's against me. All because of a four letter word. Rape.
The whole issue was rendered moot when the first resident of the house in question decided not to put up a mailbox. He purchased a post office box instead. This pleased nobody. Especially not the clerks. The man got a lot of oversized first-class mail. The situation lasted years until the man finally moved out. His mother moved in. His mother received a lot of third-class mail. Half a tray of URGENT! URGENT! contest victories everyday. It was getting thrown out. The woman was horrified to learn that third class mail didn't get delivered to post office boxes. She put up her own box. A month before the Rural Mail Count. The count of all mail that would decide rural carrier salaries for the foreseeable future.
Some not so unattractive female cousins of mine took me to see a movie. I got excited when I got to the theatre. Instead of popcorn and soda the bar was selling pickled peppers and beer. They even had cocktails. The movie was less suprising. It was an American comedy that was released in the States at least a year and a half earlier. I was glad there was no dubbing. Just subtitles. Until I started watching and I realized I was laughing at the jokes a full five seconds before anybody else. If at all. I was supremely embarrassed once again. Until the cocktails kicked in.
This table lists in descending order of frequency a selection of word pairs that appear in the Fiction Corpus and groups them according to the morphological derivation of the word instead that appears in the pair.
Type
WORD
Frequency
TOTAL # of occurences
MCDONALDS
JESUS
SEX
TSIGA
JACKSON
DINGBATS
modern/sloppy
biblical/terse
poetic/high-brow
hard/fast
talky
mixed salad
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
I have yet to perform a collocation analysis of "instead." I hope I can get it done sometime soon. -Michal
Life is a spinning sphere with Joy at one pole and Sadness at the other. Each continuously feeding its pair. Joy flanked by the emotions of Trust on one side, Surprise on the other. Trust leading to Anticipation; anticipation leading to Fear. Surprise leading to Disgust; disgust leading to Anger. Anger and Fear fueling our Sadness. Sadness giving way, in time, to Joy; through Hope, an orientation towards Love. Love, an openness towards Joy, Trust and Surprise; the sum of emotion; emotion amplified by others. Multiplied and divided, in equal parts. Such that to those from whom it has been subtracted, we must add. Until we are whole.
Help me maintain the "Instead" page alive...
If you love women and art...
Michal's importing Polish art...is he nuts?
Michal's Sales Pitch Lot 1: Silesian Handicrafts
T-shirt fundraiser for sale
Last T-Shirt with the logo that I designed.
From a set of, I believe, twenty produced by Margo and given out to a portion of the last 20 women to finish the 20th anniversary Fiat Road Race in Bielsko-Biała, cf. the movie. This is the last one left in it's original packaging and my supporters - like the poor women of Bielsko - are going to have to fight for it. Whoever invests the most money with me, and who lets me borrow it to invest in the next lot, will not only be rewarded with some beautiful piece of art, but will get this priceless t-shirt as a reward for being my top supporter. $1000.00 or best offer. Remember to authorize me to hold the sum as credit against a future purchase and to authorize me to borrow against it.
To purchase please mail a USPS money order in an envelope clearly marked Lot #1/Item #1 to M. Slaby at house number 201 on Ridge Road in the town of West Milford, in the state of New Jersey, one of the beautiful United States of America. The postal code is 07480-3112.
Felt handbag for sale
Felt bag by Dorota.
Entirely hand-sewn. Base: polyester felt, 100% PE. Motif: South American woolen yarn, dyed, 100% wool. Hand-worked with a needle. Unique and inimitable design. Inside: cotton fabric, closes with zipper, inside pocket. Available now for $220.00. Ships free of additional charge via USPS (uninsured) unless otherwise directed.
To purchase please mail a USPS money order in an envelope clearly marked Lot #1/Item #2 to M. Slaby at house number 201 on Ridge Road in the town of West Milford, in the state of New Jersey, one of the beautiful United States of America. The postal code is 07480-3112.
Decorative collar for sale
Decorative collar by Zuzanna.
Ethnic layered cloth jewelry constructed on a cotton base and adorned with ribbons, tassels, and a yellow fringe. Fastened on the side with 11 buttons, fitted entirely with a pleasant lining. The style is an Indo-Asian-African multinational color combination. The collar is very extravagant and an extraordinary addition to any clothing, guaranteed to attract attention. Just a simple dress and a unique image is ready. Dry-cleaning recommended. Available now for $200.00. Ships free of additional charge via USPS (uninsured) unless otherwise directed.
To purchase please mail a USPS money order in an envelope clearly marked Lot #1/Item #3 to M. Slaby at house number 201 on Ridge Road in the town of West Milford, in the state of New Jersey, one of the beautiful United States of America. The postal code is 07480-3112.
Seamless handbag for sale
Handbag by Sylwia.
Handmade from felted all-natural Australian and South American wool. Entirely felted, seamless. Finished with a white lining, inside is a small pocket. Lining is sewn and stitched in by hand. Available now for $180.00. Ships free of additional charge via USPS (uninsured) unless otherwise directed.
To purchase please mail a USPS money order in an envelope clearly marked Lot #1/Item #4 to M. Slaby at house number 201 on Ridge Road in the town of West Milford, in the state of New Jersey, one of the beautiful United States of America. The postal code is 07480-3112.
Patchwork quilt for sale
Patchwork quilt by Alicja.
Bedspread made of cotton and polyester material. Inserted with polyester lining. 90 by 70 cm. Available now for $120.00. Ships free of additional charge via USPS (uninsured) unless otherwise directed.
To purchase please mail a USPS money order in an envelope clearly marked Lot #1/Item #5 to M. Slaby at house number 201 on Ridge Road in the town of West Milford, in the state of New Jersey, one of the beautiful United States of America. The postal code is 07480-3112.
Nuno-felt shawl for sale
Shawl by Sylwia.
Scarf made with the nuno felting technique (wet felting fibre into a silk gauze) using South American wool. Two-sided scarf with latticework at the ends. Wholly in the colors red, black, green in an abstract pattern. Available now for $100.00. Ships free of additional charge via USPS (uninsured) unless otherwise directed.
To purchase please mail a USPS money order in an envelope clearly marked Lot #1/Item #6 to M. Slaby at house number 201 on Ridge Road in the town of West Milford, in the state of New Jersey, one of the beautiful United States of America. The postal code is 07480-3112.
Clara the doll for sale
Clara by Alicja.
Clara loves roses and greenery, adores tormenting spiders with long legs and sleeping soundly in the afternoon. Cuddly toy made of cotton and polyester, stuffed with polyester lining. Available now for $70.00. Ships free of additional charge via USPS (uninsured) unless otherwise directed.
To purchase please mail a USPS money order in an envelope clearly marked Lot #1/Item #7 to M. Slaby at house number 201 on Ridge Road in the town of West Milford, in the state of New Jersey, one of the beautiful United States of America. The postal code is 07480-3112.
Noah the doll for sale
Noah by Alicja.
Noah doesn't know what to like and what not to like but keeps wondering and thinking about it. Cuddly toy made of cotton and polyester, stuffed with polyester lining. Available now for $70.00. Ships free of additional charge via USPS (uninsured) unless otherwise directed.
To purchase please mail a USPS money order in an envelope clearly marked Lot #1/Item #8 to M. Slaby at house number 201 on Ridge Road in the town of West Milford, in the state of New Jersey, one of the beautiful United States of America. The postal code is 07480-3112.
Black suspenders for sale
Black suspenders by Zuzanna.
Two-sided suspenders from black material with a rose motif on one side and striped cotton on the other. Connected by a leather triangle. Adjustable length. Hand washing in cold water recommended. Available now for $50.00. Ships free of additional charge via USPS (uninsured) unless otherwise directed.
To purchase please mail a USPS money order in an envelope clearly marked Lot #1/Item #9 to M. Slaby at house number 201 on Ridge Road in the town of West Milford, in the state of New Jersey, one of the beautiful United States of America. The postal code is 07480-3112.
Orange suspenders for sale
Orange suspenders by Zuzanna.
Two-sided suspenders made of denim and orange material with a Polish floral folk design. Connected by a leather triangle. Adjustable length. Hand washing in cold water recommended. Available now for $50.00. Ships free of additional charge via USPS (uninsured) unless otherwise directed.
To purchase please mail a USPS money order in an envelope clearly marked Lot #1/Item #10 to M. Slaby at house number 201 on Ridge Road in the town of West Milford, in the state of New Jersey, one of the beautiful United States of America. The postal code is 07480-3112.
Green suspenders for sale
Green suspenders by Zuzanna.
Two-sided suspenders made of denim and green material with a mountain folk design. Connected by a leather triangle. Adjustable length. Hand washing in cold water recommended. Available now for $50.00. Ships free of additional charge via USPS (uninsured) unless otherwise directed.
To purchase please mail a USPS money order in an envelope clearly marked Lot #1/Item #11 to M. Slaby at house number 201 on Ridge Road in the town of West Milford, in the state of New Jersey, one of the beautiful United States of America. The postal code is 07480-3112.
Felt earrings for sale
Felt earrings by Dorota.
Material: South American woolen yarn, dyed, 100% wool. Hand-worked with a needle. Pendant of anti-allergenic metal. Available now for $40.00. Ships free of additional charge via USPS (uninsured) unless otherwise directed.
To purchase please mail a USPS money order in an envelope clearly marked Lot #1/Item #12 to M. Slaby at house number 201 on Ridge Road in the town of West Milford, in the state of New Jersey, one of the beautiful United States of America. The postal code is 07480-3112.
Round ceramic earrings for sale
Round ceramic earrings by Dorota.
Material: Glazed ceramics, hand-molded. Available now for $40.00. Ships free of additional charge via USPS (uninsured) unless otherwise directed.
To purchase please mail a USPS money order in an envelope clearly marked Lot #1/Item #13 to M. Slaby at house number 201 on Ridge Road in the town of West Milford, in the state of New Jersey, one of the beautiful United States of America. The postal code is 07480-3112.
Oblong ceramic earrings for sale
Oblong ceramic earrings by Dorota.
Material: Glazed ceramics, hand-molded. Available now for $40.00. Ships free of additional charge via USPS (uninsured) unless otherwise directed.
To purchase please mail a USPS money order in an envelope clearly marked Lot #1/Item #14 to M. Slaby at house number 201 on Ridge Road in the town of West Milford, in the state of New Jersey, one of the beautiful United States of America. The postal code is 07480-3112.
'Coral' necklace for sale
Corals by Sylwia.
Necklace made of cotton pieces with organdy and decorated with beads, suspended on cotton strings. Can be worn as a necklace, as a brooch or as a belt tied at the side. Available now for $40.00. Ships free of additional charge via USPS (uninsured) unless otherwise directed.
To purchase please mail a USPS money order in an envelope clearly marked Lot #1/Item #15 to M. Slaby at house number 201 on Ridge Road in the town of West Milford, in the state of New Jersey, one of the beautiful United States of America. The postal code is 07480-3112.
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