Michal's contemplating the prospect of reinforcing his outsized Fiction Corpus with a story about paintings; cites fatigue
Posted:
I trust in the concept of implementing English as a universal language. I don't have faith in the unnewsworthy blueprint with which the English tongue is taught.
Fine-tuning a person's dexterity with a language isn't like introducing a larger dome. A language - a living language - isn't merely an instrument that you can learn to exploit with a greater amount of precision. A spoken language cannot be cleaved from the professed knowledge of a circle of people 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.
To make a student recite English is to strip him of its cultural context. A proper teacher has to develop a technique for introducing it; the perceptive pupil goes out to seek it.
A dictionary - properly used - can become an influential tool. The best dictionaries define words on the basis of a particular corpus, a body of written works of various scope and consistency. This corpus might include everything from a book about literature to a lot of stories. I forged my "trivial" Fiction Corpus in order to form a unique type of dictionary based on the ability of one man to tell a story in myriad forms. It is a labor of love and listening.
I have drafted a million words and I have categorized them, reformulating them - not merely to teach an American tongue but to promote the human spirit, and to goad 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...
In June of 2011 I arrived in Europe for what I hoped would be a great adventure; my only concrete plan, to visit Croatia. By September I had driven 6,000 miles and visited 12 different countries, all with a woman I met on the first Friday of my trip.
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.
I was American. Freshly arrived in Europe and the new owner of a '97 Ford Escort made in Germany. The only thing I had to complain about was the fact that the owner's manual was in German. She was from Poland, and a German-language owner's manual for a car bought in Poland wasn't the only thing she had to complain about. Something as small as that didn't even register.
Do unto others as you would have done unto you. But how to judge what we would want done to us if we've never been in somebody else's shoes? If we've never been abandoned by our mother, how do we treat somebody who has? Somebody who seems to constantly suffer the repurcussions of it? Margo and I had 46 days and 6,000 miles to try on each other's shoes. We had one car and one tent in which to hear each other's words. We learned to cooperate. We started learning how to listen.
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 Chin
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 chin in some kind of way.
If you want to communicate an idea using the word chin, 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 chin is located in the fabric of a language, the better you will be at exploiting its cultural power.
Pronunciation of Chin
I have yet to publish a pronunciation for the word chin.
Video of me pronouncing "chin."
Definition of Chin
A chin is a fuel that thinking men stroke in the hopes of producing a thought that may or may not support a beard. Round beardless chins on female mammals are sometimes fetishized as a sign that other portions of said mammal are also round, though not necessarily beardless .
Common use of chin in illustrative example sentences
I have yet to come up with a third sentence using the word chin.
Audio of me saying the sentence:
I have yet to come up with a fourth sentence using the word chin.
Audio of me saying the sentence:
I have yet to come up with a fifth sentence using the word chin.
Audio of me saying the sentence:
I have yet to come up with a sixth sentence using the word chin.
Audio of me saying the sentence:
I have yet to come up with a seventh sentence using the word chin.
Audio of me saying the sentence:
Usage of Chin 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 chin.
That doesn't mean it's not high on my list.
Table of Frequency for the Word "Chin."
This table lists in descending order the total number of times that the word chinand 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 chin, 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 #4136
according to becky bellflower is owned by a company secretly controlled by the chinese government. she cant prove that either though.
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.
When the terrorists invaded Poland, they proved just as practical as the Germans. They brought machine guns, grenades, mortars, and assault rifles. They brought swords for beheading hostages, not for any romantic reason, but because they wouldn't have to waste ammunition that way (they didn't bring enough of it). In fact, they didn't bring anything with them from space: that would've been impossible. They had to buy everything they needed on location. In Poland, in the city of Wroclaw, one of their main suppliers happened to be none other than Baron Cohen-Krupnik, the man who, once upon a time, had sold Jesus silk stockings in bulk every Monday at eight o'clock in the morning. Heroin was a rather lucrative trade in peacetime; in times of war, however, arms were more like it.
At a certain point, instead of riding ahead and watching her pass, your father began to beckon. By jerking his head and making his horse canter further into the field, your father wooed your mother. She smiled. She didn't take long to respond. Bending down and lifting up over her huge head the thick, gray-colored electromechanical transducer wire that separated them, she walked off the road. A presumptuous, young usher began calling after her in an effort to make her stop, but Jesus just waved him back. SECURITA was in charge, not presumptuous, young men who lacked both uniforms and millions upon millions of dollars.
Zoe never mentioned the encroaching darkness. She remained curious about her surroundings and her reticence in that particular matter concerning where she would sleep that night gave Jesus a muted sense of hope, excitement, anxiety, and worry. By the time they reached Hell's Ditch, it was dark enough to make the four-meter-high walls on either side look sufficiently spooky. Zoe's insistence on climbing up the sides and looking over the edge only to fall back into Jesus's arms was further proof. In fact, it was all the proof that Jesus needed. There was no question: they were approaching the critical point - the point of no return. From here on out, it was not a matter of whether, but how well.
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.
Upon reaching the downstairs room, I closed the door. Going to the sofa, I began to strip. I unbuttoned half my blouse before I tore it off. Unzipping my skirt, I started tugging it down my thighs. I cursed myself for wearing stockings. Rolling one of them down, I looked at the clock: one minute before midnight. Tearing off the rest of my underwear, I cursed myself for wearing so much clothing - but, standing in the middle of the room stark naked, I now approached the fireplace. Kneeling before it, I opened its doors. I looked inside: it was very dirty; the flue was closed. I opened it, letting a small cloud of ash fall: I cursed myself for not preparing it earlier. I looked at the clock. There was still time. I turned myself around, my back facing the fireplace, and, positioning my hands behind me, I felt the cold tile.
You remember, dear brother, when you first met Indiana: we were fourteen years old on Lake Ontario, staying in a burgundy-colored house. Our cousin was teaching us how to play croquet, and you: you were already winning. I remember her getting very annoyed, but I was detached: too busy singing that song- the one about summer waiting for us to enjoy it - although by singing I mean repeating the chorus over and over again, since I couldn't remember any of the verses. Up the small hill, our mothers were lounging in the shade of a tall willow tree. It was very cold in the shade; it was very cold for summer - so when our cousin purposely hit the ball straight into the lake, you were the only volunteer.
He will enter his library, look at his books, organized by subject and then by date of publication, and then he will find the oldest ones missing. He will wonder what has become of them. He will wonder whether he ever had them at all. He will climb up into the attic, thinking he is looking for something, but he will not find anything of worth. If it be winter when he does this, it will be too cold to stay there searching. And if it be summer, it will be too hot.
– Title 3, Regarding a Dream, Chapter 1, The First Day, Part 1, Victory & Calendar Reform, Section 1, Cancer, Paragraph 1, Clauses 2-8
There are no best things, no best people and no best friends either. Oh my dear brother: those who judge themselves or others according to hierarchies of quality may do so, and with great authority, but only if they acknowledge the arbitrariness of ranking. You know, brother: things I once thought so precious have now paled; people I once felt so strongly, so physically without even touching: they are now like chipmunks or squirrels in the backyard - tall grass itching at one's leg - arousing very little in the way of interest.
Longchamp Allée, however, was so long that Luka quite forgot what he was looking for, and, reaching the northeast corner of the wood, he had to ask himself where he was going. Then he cursed himself - obviously - and, turning onto Route Sablons, he promised to keep his eyes open.
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.
Shephard poured the glasses. He nodded. "We'll find you a girl."
Debbie scoffed. "Give me a chance," she said. She put Junior on the opposite side. She started to pull. It wasn't enough. She leaned back. Still, Harry was bringing his legs together. She dropped all the way down to the ground. It was useless. She was being dragged-all her weight-her incredible inertia-feckless in the face of Harry's crotch. She couldn't believe it. She refused to give up. She dug in her heels. She was losing ground. She turned. She started to tow like an ox. One hock went after the other and still she was going nowhere. She was out of breath. She turned back around. She could see Harry's legs almost touching. This was it. This was her last chance. She heaved one final time. Harry's legs snapped shut.
"This man," said Shephard, "wants to help. He's ready to offer you a sixteen-year-old girl for the entire day and night for only two hundred Bo. That's thirty dollars."
"Forget it."
"I tried to bargain. The man is shrewd. For another hundred, he'll throw in the girl's mother."
"That's why I need you. If you don't come, I have to go alone. Look at me. Do I look like a tourist to you?" Shephard grinned. "Have I ever been anything but the opposite of relaxed?"
"Don't worry. You won't go by yourself. I'll get us a car. We'll drive through Kazakhstan. We'll be in Yining before you know it."
"We have people in Yining," explained Clark. Shephard squinted again. This time, his eyes got very narrow. "We'll be taking the bus to Kashgar. We'll be making a tour of the southern rim."
Shephard's mouth slightly dropped. He started slowly shaking his head. "There aren't any groups down there."
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: If you insist. I was out one night at the ole rubbadedub gettin' rotten with me ping-pong mates; bloody bonzer alright 'cause I took a screamer that day 'gainst the ole Banana Benders - who didn't stand Buckley's by the way - too right! So I turn to me tall poppies and say, 'Look, boys: it's my shout; first, allow me to shoot through, piss a slab, maybe buy some dinkum durries to boot. We were hittin' the turps that night so they thought London to a brick that she'd be apples. On me way back from the durry, this yobbo throws a wobbly and spills beer all over me uni. We take it outside. He comes a gutser and falls flat on his face. 'Good on you,' I say. 'Go take a walkabout.' I'm so full and cranky, I sit next to this swagman drinkin' plonk right there on the side of the road. 'I'll be stuffed,' he says. 'Sheila told me I'd see a fight.' I'm like, what sheila? 'Sheila down the road,' says he. 'Take me there,' I say. We go. Sheila reads me palm. She tells me I'll have a ripper year. She holds out her hand and says, 'Fifty quid.' I haven't got a brass razoo. I ask her if she takes credit. 'I knew you would say that,' says she, pullin' out a credit card machine. The next thing you know, there's a bunch of prezzies on me credit card statement. As for the old swaggie and sheila, they weren't within cooee.
– ACT I, line 179
MS. JACKSON: What about my heirloom?
GREY GOOSE: What heirloom?
MS. JACKSON: The one you stole.
GREY GOOSE: I didn't steal anything.
MS. JACKSON: Don't lie to me.
GREY GOOSE: I didn't.
LESBIAN: I did. I packed it away in my bag. I have two tickets for tonight's flight: one for me and one for you. Come. We'll explore the world as your ancestors did: the English and the Polynesians. They went from west to east; we'll go from east to west. We'll show the lost and the lovelorn what true devotion means. We'll scale Victory Peak in China. We'll sail the Punjab. We'll get lost in Gargas Cave. We'll bathe in the hot springs beneath Mount Hekla. We'll catch a Broadway show. We'll do some shopping at Shinjuku Station. We'll do anything your heart desires. All you have to do is liberate yourself. Let your passions run free. Someday we'll return to your native land. It won't ever be the same again. Nevermore will you be shamed. Woman, you'll have made the entire world yours.
MS. JACKSON: Nameless Pain! How am I to deny a penitent husband - newly birthed in remorse, in truth, in love, and desirous of similar gifts from me, his lawfully wedded wife, who, for so long, and with so many tears, kept watch over this heretofore seemingly endless and vain gestation - yet relish this sudden appearance of life: this infant curiosity: this foundling whose love demands more than my adoption could ever give? Oh, Homo: a thousand hearts couldn't beat as strongly as you have made mine beat. This is my home. I can no sooner leave it than change my body for that of a man. The world is yours; go out there and take it. Please leave me in peace. I beg you.
LESBIAN: I'll go. Though it pains me more than female circumcision, I'll go. I'll go because I love you.
– ACT II, lines 357-365
LUKE: Witi tay rah!
Kissa kissa kissa ha!
Kissa kissa kissa ha!
Winna tee, winna tee.
Tee tee ta.
FLETCHER: What the devil was that?
LESBIAN: It's a haka dance developed by the Maori people of New Zealand. I didn't know Aussies could appreciate it.
LUKE: It's me old school chant - thanks to the junior rugby union.
GREY GOOSE: Your husband's been teaching it to me.
ALICE: That's what you do together. I thought you drank.
– ACT I, lines 371-380
FLETCHER: We'll be chased off the island thanks to you.
GREY GOOSE: You can't go anywhere without my help.
FLETCHER: Do you think I want it like this?
GREY GOOSE: You've been itching to leave since you could swim.
FLETCHER: I happen to like life on an island - just not this one.
GREY GOOSE: Do you think Australia's any better?
FLETCHER: Maybe it is.
GREY GOOSE: Or New Zealand?
FLETCHER: Why not?
GREY GOOSE: Take that back, you pussy-footed pimp.
– ACT II, lines 461-470
FLETCHER: I'm glad you liked it.
LESBIAN: We happened to see your father looking down on us the whole time from a cliff.
FLETCHER: What do you mean?
LESBIAN: He was staring at us the entire morning from a cliff. I thought he was going to jump.
FLETCHER: He was just standing there?
LESBIAN: He was just standing there.
LUKE: I went up to him. He was only watching us bathe.
ALICE: I hope he liked it.
FLETCHER: Don't mind him. My father's a bit crazy. One time, I woke up in the middle of the night. It was about three in the morning. I saw him standing in front of a pine tree, trying to decide whether or not he should chop it down. This was three in the morning. There was absolutely no reason for him to chop it down. It was really quite bizarre.
A story book full of short fiction stories. An interesting bedtime mystery. A fairy tale. Science fiction romance. Adult life. Uninspiring gay fiction. Horror.
Grendel's grandmother had caught her plucking leaves off an oak tree once. She told her that if Grendel plucked another leaf the Chinook would come and take her away. Grendel couldn't be sure a hair wasn't exactly like a leaf. She stopped touching it.
Back home one day I was watching some random movie from the eighties. My father walks in. He looks at the screen and says, "That's the movie your mother was in." I asked him what the hell he was talking about. He told me to rewind to the part where the big name star is arguing in the streets. Sure enough my mother is in the background standing silently staring through a window.
Orbitz sputtered his way along the headmast. He spotted his ship, the Argo, lying just beyond the outermost sails. He brought the body onboard. He didn't have much time to hide it. Sara Lee was already approaching from the north. By the time Orbitz shut the hatch to the maintenance module she was already buzzing the airlock. Orbitz let her onboard. "Why are we meeting here?" she asked. "I thought we were going to the Nautilus."
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 chin 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 "chin." I hope I can get it done sometime soon. -Michal
St. Sebastian was a member of the Roman Emperor's praetorian guard who had the audacity to teach Christian values while on the job. I think active duty American military men and women who don't vote or who don't publicly express a political opinion because of the uniform are either being idiotic or are being cowed by the threat of punishment from a superior. Either way, they're eunuchs. My purpose in creating the St. Sebastian Series is to put the flesh and face of the true soldier front and center. The good soldier puts his mission ahead of himself. He often ends up dead. The true soldier knows a bad mission when he sees one and he isn't afraid to say it. Saint Sebastian was not a cow, despite what clever people would have you believe. Saint Sebastian is a patron saint for all protestors who face the arrows of the mob for speaking out.
Your help keeps the "Chin" page alive...
If you love women and art...
Michal is importing art from Poland...is he meshuggah?
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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