Michal declines to contemplate the prospect of enhancing his humongous Fiction Corpus with a book about the fine arts; cites fatigue
Posted:
I don't doubt the potency of exploiting English as the international community's second language. I do doubt the sterile modus operandi by which English is presented for study.
Strengthening a person's adroitness with a language isn't like developing a stronger glue. A language - a living language - is not just a tool that you can learn to use with a greater amount of precision. A shared tongue cannot be dissected from the competing values of a community 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 cheat her out of its cultural context. A worthy instructor has to find a method of introducing it; the wisest pupil goes out to seek it.
A dictionary can be an influential tool. The best dictionaries define words on the basis of a specific corpus, a body of written language of varying size and consistency. A corpus can contain everything from a book about literature to numerous adult fiction books. I burnt many candles developing my "ordinary" Fiction Corpus to form a different genre 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 strung together a million words and I have diagnosed them, reframing them - not just to teach an American tongue but to describe 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...
Europe, the summer of 2011. Twelve countries. 46 days. One car. One tent. One man. One woman he's just met.
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 considered myself young and able, and being American I often convinced myself I was more than able. She didn't feel quite so young. Having grown up in Poland, what was and is still considered by many to be a poor country, she had the added burden of not only being disadvantaged but having it held against her. The difference became palpable when I realized I couldn't even properly translate into Polish the very American word, "opportunity." A chance? Sure. An occasion? Why not? An opportunity? Not in the book.
There were times during our trip when I thought there might not be a happy ending. There were times when disaster was close and I wondered whether I hadn't made a mistake. I wondered whether fear, anger or sadness might triumph and one of us would have to finished the journey alone. Though I dangled from the cliffs of Normady I was saved. Though the lights went out I rode on. Though I ran the tires down to the wire I was okay. We drove home in one piece. We came home happy. We had started the process of learning how to listen and the sound of it was beautiful. We could be sure that we were ready to conquer the devils that abuse us no matter how long it would take.
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 Chest
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 chest in some kind of way.
If you want to communicate an idea using the word chest, 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 chest is located in the fabric of a language, the better you will be at exploiting its cultural power.
Pronunciation of Chest
I have yet to publish a pronunciation for the word chest.
Video of me pronouncing "chest."
Definition of Chest
I have yet to publish the definition of chest.
I'm sure it won't take too long.
Common use of chest in illustrative example sentences
I have yet to come up with a third sentence using the word chest.
Audio of me saying the sentence:
I have yet to come up with a fourth sentence using the word chest.
Audio of me saying the sentence:
I have yet to come up with a fifth sentence using the word chest.
Audio of me saying the sentence:
I have yet to come up with a sixth sentence using the word chest.
Audio of me saying the sentence:
I have yet to come up with a seventh sentence using the word chest.
Audio of me saying the sentence:
Usage of Chest 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 chest.
That doesn't mean it's not high on my list.
Table of Frequency for the Word "Chest."
This table lists in descending order the total number of times that the word chestand 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 chest, 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 #4436
it wasnt a ghost. it was a professional hit. orchestrated by powerful forces. what if they saw me. what if they think i have evidence.
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.
As for Leonard Cohen-Krupnik, his only mistake had been meeting with the former Russian spy. In the end, perhaps the procurators would've caught up with him too - maybe not. After all, he had been the richest man in Poland. There was no telling what that meant.
"See, cousin," said Jesus, "what kind of people have come to rule this land. When you threatened SECURITA with exposure, not a single honest man came forward, despite the fact that knowledge of our existence had to reach the highest circles before our uniforms were granted. It was treason they had to hide - if not their own, then somebody else's. We're a state secret, cousin. You think we'll survive long on this planet? They want our heads. We're a liability - just like Leonard Cohen-Krupnik, the richest man in Poland - but not for long. Soon, his wealth will fall to his eldest son, Sacha. We cannot even contemplate the possible motives, but, for some reason, Hitler Panzer-Tank the Third has purchased the sudden death of his would-be son-in-law's father.
In Poland, the richest man in the country, Leonard Cohen-Krupnik, was accused of shady dealings with a former Russian spy. Krupnik, in possession of the largest individual interest in the country's largest petroleum dealer, was suspected of conspiring with the President of Poland and others in government to sell the Russians a refinery in Danzig as well as a controlling interest in the country's largest petroleum dealer, which would place, on the one hand, Poland's energy sector into the hands of Russian agents, and, on the other hand, millions upon millions of dollars into the hands of Krupnik and his conspirators.
In thanksgiving for not having died from spoiled ketchup, Jesus tattooed a Christogram onto his chest. The rho came stretching up his breastbone. The chi was slashed across his breast. There was also an upside-down number tattooed alongside it: these were the coordinates to his mother's grave. Jesus showed his men his new tattoo.
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.
Meanwhile, I began fiddling with the radio. But Indiana was right: there was no reception. Unless I stood exactly five feet away to the northeast, which caused a sort of rhythmic droning, there was nothing but pure static across the band. So I had to paint in silence until Indiana's return. It was nerve-racking. But when she came back, she brought with her two CDs, and this explanation: "You know what? The music store was closed: the man who works there was out to lunch. Can you believe that? Good thing we are moving to London. But: I went to the consignment shop, and they have a lot of old CDs there. So I found you two CDs that are not opera, but very close. This one is by the Vienna State Opera Orchestra, and they are playing 'National Anthems of the World,' and this one is by nobody I know, but it's called 'Soap Opera's Favorite Wedding Music.' So there you go."
Like streams of consciousness converging, former thoughts and current questions began flooding my mind. My heart was in danger. I took a deep breath and I held it in my chest, as if to reinforce the floodgates cradling my heart. I had to protect her from being overwhelmed by my sick and moiling stomach, or the storm clouds of my mind. I began a deep and steady breathing, calmly pumping away the feeling with my diaphragm, blowing out my nose, trying to dissipate my thoughts. But my thoughts - even without the weight of feeling welling up against me, pressuring my soul, churning my stomach - these thoughts were not dissolvable. They would not go away, and how could I let them infuse my heart? that fountain of dangerous feeling? that chemical dynamo that would send them shooting to my throat - give them voice! - no! that would send them bursting through my mouth in sentences of self-destructing rancor - an explosive solution, one which I would not allow to break my stony face.
It was illuminating part of Albert's face. The feeling was beginning. It was a little acorn slipping down my spine. It was the light of the sun warming my hand, the light that was falling across Albert's face like a sharp blade, many sharp blades, as if they were trying to cut into his face and operate. I looked at his head. I imagined his beleaguered brain. I imagined his nervous tissue, his blood pumping through his mind, diffusing its nutrient-covered self. I put my hand on his chest. I felt his heart painfully beating. I took my hand away. My loins were beginning to call. They were pumping their own force. They were making me wonder: am I to penetrate his skull? Do I have the strength to reach his organism? I looked at Albert's head. I was imagining the rest of his naked body.
– Title 3, Regarding a Dream, Chapter 1, The First Day, Part 1, Victory & Calendar Reform, Section 5, Inflammation of the Loins, Paragraph 3, Clauses 3-17
I made a weak joke about how finding a good Colchester was simply impossible to do in Austria, thanks to the dearth of Austrian fishermen, but I was not satisfied with my results: Macy was intent on finishing his story. At a certain point, he scrunched his face closely together - he was imitating an oyster, I think - or maybe the act of eating one - I don't remember - but it was very funny and I laughed, simultaneously aware of the opportunity: so, while laughing, I kicked my cousin under the table - repeatedly, I must say - and she, finally getting my drift, began to laugh too; but only after the moment was over did she say, "Oh your face, Macy! Eet eez so funny," which embarrassed the poor man very quickly.
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.
Tatum winced. She brought her hand to her mouth. She could taste blood on her lips. It was everywhere. It was on her hands-on her pants-on her top. Tatum shook. She crawled backwards. She hit a chest of drawers. She huffed. The candle went out.
Shephard said in Chinese, "Help us. We'll pay." The man spotted Shephard. "We're from America. We work for the president. We'll make you the richest man in town. You'll get away with it. Trust me. Lower your gun." The officer looked back into the tunnel.
Shephard heard Clark say, "Don't look at me. I don't speak a word of Chinese."
The Honorable Carmina returned an impatient and useless stare of her own. The sheer white lace of her partlet swooped high around her nape, cupped her head like the sepals of a morning glory, plunged down either side of her chest and did nothing to mask the low-scoop of her sleeveless gray gown, where the gold artichoke pattern of her black gamurra peeked out alongside the embroidered edge of a white chemise as two frightened children would, scared of Carmina's frame, bobbing as it was imperceptibly up and down with her deliberately steady breath like the shoulders of a tigress unsure of its prey, which Ferrari's eyes absorbed as if he had never seen a person breathe and needed, like a child newly expelled from between its mother's legs, shocked to find a world of air, a moment to learn how to jump-start its lungs and live.
From his headquarters on the Rockaway Peninsula in the borough of Queens, his duties involved shaking down the owner of the mini-golf course, chasing teenagers off the dunes, and teaching the lady lifeguards how best to assert their authority. "The great thing about the double leg takedown," he would say, "is that it keeps your chest close to the opponent. Who wants to try it on me?"
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.
"Chest" does not make an appearance in Sorry Miss Jackson.
A story book full of short fiction stories. An interesting bedtime mystery. A fairy tale. Science fiction romance. Adult life. Uninspiring gay fiction. Horror.
"Not by itself," said Orbitz. "It has the maturity of a small child. It will always be like that. The princess was infected with a parasite during the pregnancy. It fused with her child's nervous system. From the belly up it looks like a little girl. Below it has the thorax, the legs, and the abdomen of a large spider. In the abdomen is a poison gland that can be removed surgically. Until then it must be cauterized daily. Its reproductive system cannot be removed. It produces parasites that infect pregnant humanoids. When it sees you onboard it will insist that you be infected." Sara Lee's chest heaved with apprehsion. Orbitz restrained her. "It will sense the child within you," he said. "If you go aboard the ship I am going to let it infect you, Sara Lee." Orbitz's voice almost broke. "I'm sorry for that," he said. "I've paid the price. I want you to know that our son will survive. He will be a beautiful baby boy. He will grow up to love his mother very much. I can't tell you how this is how going to happen. It would betray me to the creature. You have to trust me." Orbitz turned Sara Lee around to face him. "You don't have to go onboard the ship, beloved. You have a choice."
The Amazon assigned a top-notch surveillance unit to watch Orbitz's every move. They watched him clear out his flight deck locker. They watched him go to the gym one last time before turning in his passcard. They watched him share a smoke with the old-time janitor. They tweaked their earpieces as they listened to him tell stories about the janitor's great-great-grandfather who was shining floors and taking names the last time Orbitz was around. They fell asleep. The Amazon found out. He went crazy. He warned them that Orbitz was capable of anything. He had a thousand year head start. He was the richest man in the universe. He spoke hundreds of languages. He could have treasure buried on every planet in the Orion cluster if not the entire Orion arm of the galaxy. They were sleeping while Orbitz was on a transport to Earth.
Indiana lay her head on the crook of my neck. I slid my fingers beneath her underwear. I lifted her onto my hands. I held her by the skin of her bottom. I rocked her. I kept pace with her lilting chest. Our shoulders rose and fell. We were like a mother and child.
She told me Albert was sick. He was going to die. I cooed. I kissed her on the cheek. I told her I would put her to bed.
The beautiful Branca was the first child born to Sir Lima. The first of ten. I'm sure she was and remains his pride and joy. I wouldn't know. I've never met the man. Or Branca. Everything I know about her and her family comes from the boy who lived down the street from them. The boy who grew up to be a priest. A professor. The boy who to this day at the sheer mention of the name Branca leans back his head, inserts hand into shirt and begins violently pumping the fabric as if pistons were about to explode through his chest. I wish he wouldn't do it. If he tears a hole in his shirt I won't buy him a new one. His tastes are too expensive. That's his Hong Kong upbringing. His vow of poverty hasn't done much to squash it.
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 chest 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 "chest." 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 support keeps the "Chest" page...
If you love women and art...
Michal's importing art from Poland...is he bonkers?
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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