Michal's meditating on the viability of extending his vast Fiction Corpus with a history of the world's top fiction books; cites fatigue
Posted:
I think highly of the potential of enacting English as a worldwide language. I do reject the unexceptional system by which the English language is presented for study.
Enriching one's finesse for a language isn't like bringing about a safer gunpowder. A language - a common language - is not merely a tool that you can learn to employ with a greater amount of precision. A shared tongue can not be severed from the prevailing culture 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.
To make a pupil recite English is to cheat him out of its cultural context. A good educator has to prepare a plan for introducing it; the perceptive pupil goes out to seek it.
A dictionary has the potential to be an influential tool. The best dictionaries describe words on the basis of a specific corpus, a body of writing of varying size and consistency. This corpus could include anything from a book about literature to some real adult fiction stories. I burnt many candles creating my "considerable" Fiction Corpus to form a unique genre 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 crafted a million words and I have ordered them, reformulating them - not simply to teach a tongue but to be an advocate for the human spirit, and to prod that soul or spirit 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.
As an artist, from the beginning of my adult career, my work had been devoted to the problem of body acceptance, a goal that I would later learn was shared by a whole community of people called naturists, a humble portion of which I discovered residing in Poland, a country whose cultural conservatism does not lend itself readily to forward thinking. One of those forward-thinking Polish naturists happened to be Margo.
As an American, I was full of optimism and confidence bordering on recklessness. I was ready to run the wheels off the car I had just bought and eventually I would. As a European, she was cautious and mistrustful. She needed to make sure the air conditioner worked. Which it did. If you knew how to turn the broken knob in just the right way.
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 Day
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 day in some kind of way.
If you want to communicate an idea using the word day, 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 day is located in the fabric of a language, the better you will be at exploiting its cultural power.
Pronunciation of Day
I have yet to publish a pronunciation for the word day.
Video of me pronouncing "day."
Definition of Day
I have yet to publish the definition of day.
I'm sure it won't take too long.
Common use of day in illustrative example sentences
I have yet to come up with a fifth sentence using the word day.
Audio of me saying the sentence:
I have yet to come up with a sixth sentence using the word day.
Audio of me saying the sentence:
I have yet to come up with a seventh sentence using the word day.
Audio of me saying the sentence:
Usage of Day 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 day.
That doesn't mean it's not high on my list.
Table of Frequency for the Word "Day."
This table lists in descending order the total number of times that the word dayand 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 day, 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 #3231
the food at the bistro is stale. this early in the day.
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.
The destruction was awesome. The U.S. Space Marines punched a hole through the main defenses; another group made a feint. Meanwhile, armored ships outflanked the pirates from their weakest point. They were encircled. Within days, the great armed forces of Sadatmo ceased to exist. Many surrendered; others ran away. The coalition held back. The great tyrant escaped into the blackness of outer space.
"The Wolf said, 'Now that you trust me, I will tell you my story. When I was alive, I was leader of the pack. In those days, like now, there was very little food. But there was even less in those days: we hunted living skeletons. We were so hungry, the pack said, "Father, let us go to the men's campsite and beg for food." I said, "No: they do not trust us. They killed my mother and my father when I was young. I am not bitter, nor do I seek revenge, but I know that if we go there to beg, they will surely kill us."
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.
Well, anyway, we explained to Indiana the old Austrian custom of putting a cherry branch in lukewarm water and placing it next to the fireplace. If it blooms on Christmas Eve, it brings good luck in the coming year. But you're not supposed to put it there on Christmas Eve; you're supposed to put the branch next to the fireplace on the fourth day of December, on what used to be St. Barbara's Day. And you're not supposed to change the water either.
Then, for no reason whatsoever, on the strangest impulse, we invited Indiana and Albert. We were so afraid that she would be too embarrassed to come without our mother's company. But then, when we called, she said Albert had to work that night, so he would stay home with Olympia and - to our great surprise - she would come on her own. Then, to our even greater surprise, she came on time.
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.
Like a man pursued, he reached Troia in three days. By the time he crossed the hills to Benevento, he was completely stanco. Waking up in the morning in sight of Trajan's arch, he got up from the ditch into which he had fallen, dusted himself off, and walked into town. Deciding against continuing on to Naples, Ferrari found himself the first bank with hard currency. This proved fatal.
Somewhat less shockingly, two days later, Sergeant Cline showed up. "I knew you were in love with her," said Patsy. "Go for it. Don't mind me. There's only one reason why she's interested."
"What's that?" asked Sergeant Cline.
Patsy drew in his breath and leaned in. Batting his eyes and bobbing his head, he murmured, "She's seen me naked."
Patsy had his sights set on another woman: the beautiful Kubota Kumiko, whose name means, "Long-time lovely, little low-lying rice paddy," which is just what Patsy was looking for.
Surgeons claimed Braccio would live. For three days, he lay in Caldora's tent, neither speaking nor eating, as if he were trying to die. Ferrari was brought in to cheer him up with light-hearted songs. Nothing worked. On the third day, he gave up his ghost.
The poor devil, crouching at the water's edge, his back to the beach and the waves lapping at his balls, had no idea what hit him. The dog, doubtlessly overjoyed to be out of retirement for the day, hit the man with such force that a slender plastic bag full of green little herbs dislodged itself from underneath the sign on its back.
"Cannabis!" yelled Patsy, running to the scene of the crime. "Cannabis!" he yelled, flailing all five limbs.
A real play. With drama in it. Talk fast. It takes two hours. Set in a guest house. In a small community. After a murder. Lots of suspicion. The characters learn to listen to each other. It's funny.
LUKE: I don't want to be the one spillin' secrets, but you might as well know. It all started when her grandmother was raped by the Japanese on Western Samoa.
LESBIAN: During the war?
LUKE: Whenever it was that they occupied the island.
LESBIAN: The Japanese never occupied Western Samoa. They did have plans to invade, but Midway changed all that. They tried to capture Port Moresby instead. Unfortunately for them, what they thought was a motor track turned out to be a mule trail, one which no Australian had dared traverse in over twenty years. They say the Japanese soldiers eventually turned to cannibalism. I thought about doing the hike myself. Five days is a bit much. The dry season was ending. I decided against it.
LUKE: Are you saying the Japanese never invaded Western Samoa?
LESBIAN: I was on Tarawa in the Gilbert Islands. That was as far as they got. You must be confused.
LUKE: I'm not confused; I'm sheepish. It wouldn't be the first time.
LESBIAN: The music box is missing. It looks as though another heirloom's been stolen.
LUKE: I'm not the one who took it: that's for sure. See you at the airport, mate.
– ACT II, lines 574-582
KOKOMO: (off) I'm a big girl: I can handle it. Just push it in.
GREY GOOSE: (off) The hole's not big enough.
KOKOMO: (off) I'm pulling it apart. Just stick it in.
MS. JACKSON: My God. They're having sex in my kitchen.
LESBIAN: You don't know that.
MS. JACKSON: What else could it be? My husband's been trying to get into my cook's panties since the day I hired her: the lecherous old goat. Homo!
LESBIAN: What?
MS. JACKSON: Go in there.
LESBIAN: Me?
MS. JACKSON: Yes.
– ACT I, lines 937-946
FLETCHER: I lost my virginity to a married woman. Her husband was abroad - had been for several months. She did plan on joining him, but she loved sex - she admitted it - more than she loved her husband. Then again, I didn't really know the man. Maybe he was the same way. Maybe he was a scoundrel. Some women are just crazy. I was doing work on her balcony at the time. She would undress in front of me through the window. She even let me watch her masturbate. I was around eighteen years old. She was forty. I had no idea what to do. I couldn't do anything, anyway. I was surrounded by my crewmates. When we finished, we packed up and we left. I didn't see her for several weeks. In due course, we bumped into each other at one of the local pubs. She asked me how I was doing. I told her I was fine. I bought her a few drinks. She asked me to take her home. I did. On her front porch, as she was removing her keys from her pocket, she dropped something.
ALICE: A condom.
FLETCHER: How did you know?
ALICE: I guessed.
FLETCHER: Is that something you've done?
ALICE: I've never done it. I assume, if you want to get your point across, that's the most powerful way.
FLETCHER: It's true. I couldn't help myself. I had to go up to her room.
ALICE: Did you like it?
FLETCHER: I loved it - as it was happening. When we were finished, I felt as dirty as a pig. She wanted me to come every Wednesday afternoon like clockwork.
ALICE: Did you?
– ACT I, lines 642-651
FLETCHER: Oh, Money! God of first fruits! Bringer of knowledge! Harvester of truth! Where would Man be without thy cold kindness? Give me your hand. Let the lorikeets squeak out the rhythm of our steps. We'll dance a polonaise. I'll sashay you around the South Pacific. Who could prove to be a better partner? No man could be as faithful; no woman either. Even if she bleed by the moon, her temper is not as mild. Obedience notwithstanding, her character can seem, at times, positively restive. Feistiness is a woman's most vicious virtue. It can burn a man's pride even while it warms his heart. In truth, a man who marries money is liable to finding a bed so stiff the kingfisher would laugh. Without it, one would cry at night like the ghost bird. Thanks to money, nature is Man's slave. Weathering the vicissitudes of fortune, the wealthy man works the ground for as long as the ground does not work him. When that day comes, let's hope that our money has not defrauded us of our nature.
– ACT I, line 797
ALICE: 'If you shoot want a yun wife rater?'
FLETCHER: 'I am not Ned Young. I'm not going to shoot anybody. I'm not going to chop anybody's head off with an axe. I'm not going to abandon you for anyone. I'm going to love you for the rest of my life. So help me God, I will. You don't have to run away anymore. You don't have to be afraid that someday you're going to want to hurt me. I will never give you cause.'
ALICE: 'You ton't know tis.'
FLETCHER: 'I do know it. I may be young, but I'm not stupid. I know what I'm doing. I'm following my heart. Even if a thousand men-of-war were to show up this very afternoon with a thousand brides for me to choose from, I wouldn't leave you: not for all the Englishwomen in the world. Who took care of the sprawlers with me? Who threw me Johnny Mills to save young Polly's life? You did. Do you remember that day when the wave nearly swept those infants away? Who saved their lives? We did. Tera-ura: "Sacred Dance." Mata Ohu. It's time we had children of our own. It's time for you to have a proper family. What say you? Will you marry me?'
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's groom asked his husband-to-be what the hell was going on. Adam said, "Let's find out." So the three of them retired to a separate room where Steve O tried to explain what had happened. When he got to the finger up the bum part, Adam's groom exploded. He was so mad that Steve O had ruined his special day. He yelled obscenities at him. He called him names. And on top of it all he cried, "Do you know why your fiinger went up so well? Because you've had your head up your bum your entire life."
The Amazon was called. He decided Orbitz's exchange with the shopkeeper was a kind of code. He ordered that they both be watched. It wasn't hard to do. Orbitz didn't move from his hotel room. The shopkeeper stayed in his shop. Customers came hawking antique ray guns. There were bidets customized for extinct species. A collection of hand-painted mechanical snakes was ruefully turned down. After a few days the members of the surveillance team noticed something strange. The shopkeeper never bargained. If he made an offer to buy something it was invariably albeit grudgingly accepted. The rest of the junk he dismissed even if he liked it. "What a shame," he would say. "I wish I could afford it." In the same hour he would sell something for ten times its cost. He was making piles of money.
I avoided Parker for the rest of the summer. I didn't mean anything by it. I thought I should give her space. I was surprised when Jeff mentioned it to me later. He told me Parker was convinced I thought she was a slut. I told him I thought nothing of the kind. I asked him to explain things to Parker. I don't know if he ever did.
After camp was over I went back to the city. I bumped into Sarah one day at the hair salon. She told me she had seen Parker recently. She wasn't doing so well. She had just broken up with Matt.
The next day Putin came with his grandson. This was to be my first pupil. Putin told me not to do anything special. Not to even bother asking the boy questions. He was dumb. All I had to do was keep talking to myself as I had been doing. His grandson would listen.
The following day the man came back. He asked me what I was talking to myself about and I told him I was mulling over current events. Politics in Moscow. He wanted to discuss it with me but I refused to talk to him unless he came inside. So he came inside. He said his name was Putin. Which I told him was similar to my own name Bongani. I asked him where his friend was and he told me that his friend had a lover. I told him I hoped he wouldn't say the same thing about me. We laughed over that. He left in good spirits.
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 day 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 "day." 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 maintain the "Day" page...
If you love women and art...
Michal is importing Polish art...is he cuckoo?
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.