Michal is ruminating on the practicality of reinforcing his terrific Fiction Corpus with some real sci fi; cites fatigue
Posted:
I think highly of the potency of legislating English as a global lingua franca. I don't have faith in the unspectacular model by which the English language is taught.
Polishing a person's skill with a language isn't like producing a more sonorous flute. A language - a spoken tongue - isn't just an instrument that you can teach yourself to use with greater amounts of precision. A spoken tongue can't be parted from the professed knowledge 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 people to recite English is to strip them of its cultural context. A capable educator must develop a strategy for introducing it; the insightful student ventures out to seek it.
A dictionary has the potential to be an influential tool. The best dictionaries define words based on a specific corpus, a set of writing of various scope and consistency. Such a corpus may contain everything from a book about literature to some really commercial fiction. I burned many candles developing my "run-of-the-mill" Fiction Corpus in order to form a specific sort 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 investigated them, reframing them - not merely to teach an American language but to defend the human spirit, and to coax 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...
By the end of my first week in Europe in 2011, I had bought a car and out of the blue had met the woman who would join me on a 6,000 mile trek across the European continent, sharing the beat-up car that I had bought and the one small tent from Walmart that I had brought along with me on my flight.
Though I felt fully formed as a writer, and had been trained in visual language, it was my first time with a professional camera in my hands. I was just learning the ins and outs and had come to Europe to find as diverse a selection of subject matter as possible, preferably something that fit my aesthetic devotion to promoting body acceptance. Enter Margo.
I had an American passport. She didn't. And the fact that I was driving a car with Polish license plates gave her ample opportunity to point out the difference. It wasn't just police and border guards who ethnically profiled me. Regular folks did it too. One campsite owner didn't shake my hand until he realized I was an American. By that point, I had trained myself to use a simplified English, something that more closely resembled what passes for a lingua franca in Europe these days. Something Margo was trying very hard to master.
I've never gone hungry without deserving it. I've never been systemically beaten by a parent. I've never been fondled by a priest. That doesn't mean I can't listen to somebody who has had to experience such abuse and it doesn't mean I can't try to understand. Margo and I traveled 6,000 miles together. We slept in the same tent. We had to listen to each other. A person shouldn't need 6,000 miles to do it. We should be able to listen to each other just because we want to. We should've been taught to do it. If we haven't been taught, we should be learning how to do it and learning fast.
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 Ball
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 ball in some kind of way.
If you want to communicate an idea using the word ball, 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 ball is located in the fabric of a language, the better you will be at exploiting its cultural power.
Pronunciation of Ball
I have yet to publish a pronunciation for the word ball.
Video of me pronouncing "ball."
Definition of Ball
I have yet to publish the definition of ball.
I'm sure it won't take too long.
Common use of ball in illustrative example sentences
I have yet to come up with a fourth sentence using the word ball.
Audio of me saying the sentence:
I have yet to come up with a fifth sentence using the word ball.
Audio of me saying the sentence:
I have yet to come up with a sixth sentence using the word ball.
Audio of me saying the sentence:
I have yet to come up with a seventh sentence using the word ball.
Audio of me saying the sentence:
Usage of Ball 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 ball.
That doesn't mean it's not high on my list.
Table of Frequency for the Word "Ball."
This table lists in descending order the total number of times that the word balland 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 ball, 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.
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 wasn't the first Panzer-Tank to try. Apparently, that honor will forever belong to Sherman 'Lucky' Panzer II. I will always remember the unforgettable day your grandfather told me his story: it was the night before your blessed mother's wedding to the atrocious Sacha Cohen-Krupnik. A great ball was being held at the Sanctuary in Lichen.
"That's right," said his uncle, giggling. "It's a shortcut." To a cheap watering hole! where men turned into whimpering dogs, keeling over and crying for their masters. They were worthless hounds, chained and beaten by devils, abandoned by the Devil himself, who cares for richer meat: not old men! Rotten men! Men with false teeth! Sucking on shotglass! Nursing their own beer mugs as if they were fat whores' teats! Breathing more smoke than air! Jesus blacked out! The next thing he knew, he was smelling his own vomit: dried vomit: putrid vomit: fresh, ethanol vomit - all of it caked onto his face and arms, his clothes, the convertible sofa, spilling onto the wet floor, in a puddle of red-orange puke. How many stages of vomit? Some of it was flaking off. Some of it was rolled into balls. (During the night, vomit crumbs had been collecting in his ass.) Most of it was half-dried. The rest of it was liquid. For a second, Jesus had no idea where he was. When he realized he was lying on his own sofa, he wondered how he had gotten there. The last thing he remembered was being cradled in his beloved uncle's arms. Why was he being cradled? He was drunk. But why was he being cradled? Had his uncle been whispering something? Lullabies? What the fuck! What kind of life is that? He rejected it.
"Fucking bullshit!" said the Krupnik. "Motherfucking bullshit!" He stared at Jesus. "What do you know about setting charges?"
"I know how to pull a pin," said Jesus. "Add string to the doors and windows and you've got yourself a brand-new businessman."
"Fucking bullshit!" said the Krupnik. "Motherfucking bullshit! Alright! We're gonna work something out. Fucking shit!" He removed his radiotelephone from its holster. He pressed one of its buttons. He stood and waited for a moment. "Yeah, listen: we've got a problem," he said. "I need to meet Nigel right now." He started shaking his head at Jesus. "I don't care if it's fucking ahead of schedule; I need to see him right fucking now." He rubbed his eyeballs. "Alright, then: take care of it." He hung up. "Get in the car," he said.
"Is that necessary?"
"Get in the fucking car, please! Yes," he said, "it's very necessary. You have no fucking idea what you're fucking with, you little motherfucking chickenshit turdface! Christ Buddha! Please: get in the car - I'm begging you."
"Alright," said Jesus. "But only because you treat me like a businessman - I like that."
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.
Next to the dolls, there was a beautifully varnished music box. I took it out from the glass case and opened it. Inside, there was a beautifully carved ballerina, ready to dance in circles to the music. So I began winding the music box, expecting to hear the sound of Bartók, or perhaps the tune of some Magyar folk song - in either case, not expecting to know the music. But, when I released the knob, the ballerina began dancing to a recognizable tune. I had to chuckle: it was Henry Mancini's theme from Love Story.
– Title 3, Regarding a Dream, Chapter 1, The First Day, Part 1, Victory & Calendar Reform, Section 6, The Drawing Room, Paragraph 3
It was certainly amusing - and, I admit, I had to laugh the most - when our father introduced you, and, while Indiana stretched out her hand, you lifted that sopping wet arm of yours and seemingly offered her the most disgusting, dripping, weed-covered croquet ball I have ever seen. Now you may disagree, but if you had been in my position - which was not a safe one - but if you had seen things a bit more objectively and not through a cloud of unbearable pain, you would have sincerely thanked - and even, I daresay, rewarded - our dear little cousin - for it was most convenient that she ripped that ball away from your hands when she did: the joke was over, and since Indiana was still holding out her hand, and yours was still sopping wet, the situation would quickly have grown awkward had our cousin not broken its development.
"Why are you both so difficult? I swear to God: I've never met two more difficult men. Go ahead if you want: ignore him; he ignores you: because you're both stupid - each in his own way, mind you. I know you think there's no other way of dealing with this - but that's not true, and you know it. You're just afraid of confrontation. Well, go ahead and be a coward: if you had balls, you would show them."
Among these photographs, there were a lot of small decorative objects: homemade objets d'art - like: cotton-ball snowmen with carefully glued faces. There was pottery with fingerprints. There were men made out of alphabet blocks, with felt strips for legs and arms and big felt hats on top of wooden spherical heads. Their faces were simply painted; they had bells for hands and feet. I picked one up and it jingled for me. I really liked it. I smiled. It had the letter 'M' on its belly. I put it back on the shelf, next to the letter 'I' man and the letter 'K,' both of whom were sitting in the shade of a tall communion candle. "These must be Olympia's," I thought, as I carefully closed the glass door.
– Title 3, Regarding a Dream, Chapter 1, The First Day, Part 1, Victory & Calendar Reform, Section 6, The Drawing Room, Paragraph 5
NIKE: What do you think: I'm gonna pop a nut? Don't worry, Doc: it's back on for good.
DOC: This kind of surgery is...a delicate...
NIKE: My balls are delicate: don't start telling me about fucking surgery.
DOC: Mr. Romanov, you are very lucky that only the scrotum was torn.
– Title 3, Regarding a Dream, Chapter 5, The Fifth Day, Part 2, Science & Reform Schools, Section 8, Being a Victim, Paragraphs 12-15
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.
"When it comes to fumbles like that," interrupted another one, "I blame Channing. A lot of guys stick with the Manga league 'cause they don't like pressure. It's bad enough when three balls are in play. If he sees the passing guards converge, he can't think about the risks. He needs to go for broke."
"It's easy." Junior attempted to explain the fundamentals. "Peter's your shooting guard. Give him the ball to kill time. Bjorn will be ready for the screen. If I'm not open, pass to John. What's there not to get?"
Harry Connick scratched his head. "What do I do with the ball?"
The rocket sled zoomed towards Sams Town. Despite the roar, Neal tried to familiarize Tatum with Monkey Ball. He shouted, "It was originally played outside in space suits. When the colony was young, technicians spent their free time throwing moon rocks into holes. The game evolved. People used two craters-one for each team. The ellipse described by them would form the field."
"Women played it before they took the men's game. It's a shame you abandoned it. Netball is a very democratic sport. For example, you can only hold onto the ball for three seconds. Everybody has to stay in her zone. There's no dribbling. You have to keep passing. It's all about out-maneuvering your opponent. It takes skill and endurance, not strength."
Debbie chuckled. "It sounds like the perfect sport for you, hubby."
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.
(LESBIAN enters carrying the heirloom pincushion.)
LESBIAN: I still don't know how you could have mistaken me for your wife. It seems pretty strange.
LUKE: Let's just say that sometimes I'm in a wee bit of a rush. Do you know what I mean?
LESBIAN: Regrettably, I think I do.
LUKE: Life isn't always like playing football. I'm like Kokomo: I burned the money.
LESBIAN: What do you mean?
LUKE: After her problems on American Samoa.
LESBIAN: She was on American Samoa?
LUKE: You didn't know that?
LESBIAN: No.
– ACT II, lines 565-573
LESBIAN: It's a tiny bug that invades trees and makes them grow abnormal clumps of tissue. It doesn't have to be a tree. I remember my mother's rose-hedge suffering from gall. I had absolutely no idea what it was. I thought it was some kind of strange flower. It started growing these round, fluffy balls of blood-red fiber. I thought it was gorgeous. It has its own name - a beautiful one. It's known as Robin's pincushion.
MS. JACKSON: Oh, Heavens! My pincushion: it's still missing. I'm sorry, Homo. I didn't mean to interrupt.
LESBIAN: It's not a problem.
MS. JACKSON: I don't understand. Who could've taken it?
A story book full of short fiction stories. An interesting bedtime mystery. A fairy tale. Science fiction romance. Adult life. Uninspiring gay fiction. Horror.
Adam was gay. The intimacy of his relationship with Steve O was sending him the wrong signals. Especially when Steve O was really drunk and wielding his naked balls like a pair of nunchunks. Adam decided to try respectfully to step things up. The results were disastrous. As soon as Steve O realized what Adam's hand was doing and where his lips were, he basically borrowed the strength of ten men to heave him up and out of the room. The friendship suffered.
I was taken to a football game. Not at a stadium. More like a field with a stand. My uncle called it "The Moldavian Wembley." This is where my stomach caught up with me. At some point during the first half I rushed out to find a toilet. The only permament structure I found had a long line sticking out of it. The portable toilets were crowded. I decided to find something further afield. At the very least a bush.
A finger up the bum was Steve O's favorite cure for a headache. It wasn't always like that. He used to enjoy digging his thumbs into the tops of his eyeballs. At least in the morning. By the afternoon it was all about the booze. A half bottle of wine did the trick. By night it was a decent wank. If he was sober.
Mark was so fast he could go up Update Street, hit his half of Hillview, and come back down to Profile before Bill the regular guy on Rural Route 2 could get two bites off his sandwich which he usually ate halfway down Download Street so he could enjoy the view of the football field.
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 ball 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 "ball." 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.
Help me keep the "Ball" page...
If you love women and art...
Michal's importing art from Poland...is he loco?
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.
Michal Recommends:
