Michal declines to study the practicality of boosting his insignificant Fiction Corpus with some really fictional short stories; cites fatigue
Posted:
I can't challenge the potential of administering English as the world's second language. I don't trust in the conventional ground plan by which the English language is taught.
Boosting a person's proficiency with a language isn't like promoting a stronger crane. A language - a spoken tongue - isn't merely a tool that you can teach yourself to use with a greater amount of precision. A common language cannot be parted from the prevailing culture of a clan of people of which it is a description. A language isn't recited; it happens - and keeps happening as long as a circle of people keeps using it.
Teaching pupils to recite English is to deprive them of its cultural context. A worthy educator has to develop a technique for introducing it; the prudent student goes out to seek it.
A dictionary - properly used - can become an influential tool. The best dictionaries define words based on a particular corpus, a body of written works of varying scope and consistency. They could include everything from a book about literature to some really contemporary realistic fiction. I lost many a night laboring on my "king-sized" Fiction Corpus to form a peculiar sort 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 strung together a million words and I have inspected them, reformulating them - not merely to teach a tongue but to defend the human spirit, and to prod 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.
Though as an artist I had been working on body acceptance since the start of my career, and as a one-time practicing figure model was used to being nude in a social setting, I had been left largely unexposed to the community of naturists and nudists working towards the same goal of promoting the human being. Visiting nude beaches and resorts along the East Coast and participating in events organized around New York by Young Naturists America, I was left hungry for more and had come to Europe to see things from their side of the pond. Margo was my introduction.
I was American. Freshly arrived in Europe and the new owner of a '97 Ford Escort made in Germany. The only thing I had to complain about was the fact that the owner's manual was in German. She was from Poland, and a German-language owner's manual for a car bought in Poland wasn't the only thing she had to complain about. Something as small as that didn't even register.
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 Ear
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 ear in some kind of way.
If you want to communicate an idea using the word ear, 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 ear is located in the fabric of a language, the better you will be at exploiting its cultural power.
Pronunciation of Ear
I have yet to publish a pronunciation for the word ear.
Video of me pronouncing "ear."
Definition of Ear
I have yet to publish the definition of ear.
I'm sure it won't take too long.
Common use of ear in illustrative example sentences
I have yet to come up with a third sentence using the word ear.
Audio of me saying the sentence:
I have yet to come up with a fourth sentence using the word ear.
Audio of me saying the sentence:
I have yet to come up with a fifth sentence using the word ear.
Audio of me saying the sentence:
I have yet to come up with a sixth sentence using the word ear.
Audio of me saying the sentence:
I have yet to come up with a seventh sentence using the word ear.
Audio of me saying the sentence:
Usage of Ear 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 ear.
That doesn't mean it's not high on my list.
Table of Frequency for the Word "Ear."
This table lists in descending order the total number of times that the word earand 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 ear, 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 #2662
for two cleve sears' willing to throw in a bunch of ultra miniature uhf voice transmitters. i told him to wrap it all up with a bow. im sold.
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.
In those days, martial law reigned in Poland. There was nothing to eat, and the government in Warsaw defended itself with militias of drug addicts, wife-beaters, and alcoholics. There was a curfew. There was violence. People were afraid; they were fearless: they joked, then ran; the people in power, they understood, were murdering clowns. They arrested people for singing songs. They attracted more attention to their own follies than their enemies did: a rebel put a flag on top of Town Hall; nobody noticed until the government responded with helicopters and took hours to take it down. Then, they shot people dead in the streets.
Two weeks later, he accused K-Freight of stealing Dhagbod's oil. He accused K-Freight and other shipping companies of pandering to the United States by conspiring to keep prices low - which was true, since the U.S. had negotiated that deal in order to weaken the Martian government, but which was also making Dhagbod suffer monetarily. Seeking compensation, one of Sadatmo's henchmen insisted that K-Freight and all other shipping companies involved cancel their thirty billion dollars worth of debt owed by Dhagbod. Instead of waiting for negotiations, however, Dhagbod struck, attacking and occupying K-Freight headquarters in orbit around the Earth. This was too much: the Americans were not going to forgive this. Sadatmo had clearly gone too far. They called him a pirate, a renegade, and, whereas before, nobody knew his name, now people were told to fear Sadatmo: the bloodthirsty pirate! the terrible tyrant! the enemy of free trade!
When we were in kindergarten, we learned about George Washington. We sang songs like "My Country 'Tis of Thee" and "This Land is Your Land." We made pictures of cats; we played house. Nothing much else happened.
Those were not laughing days, child. In those days, there was much hardship. Sixty-eight years before I was born, Yellowstone exploded. Five thousand cubic kilometers of boiling magma came to blanket the Earth, kill mankind, terrorize his animals, and fell his favorite trees. Earth bled, and the sky grew dark. It rained blackness. The whole planet stank like a struck match: burning brimstone, like the Bible says - in other words, black clouds of sulfur: they came to suffocate, incinerate. In faraway places, water turned to steam: it boiled. Volcanic ash came tumbling down. The wind blew steam and hot rock. Millions died; the rest wept black tears.
"That, my friend, is the great Glass Pyramid of Centropolis, and the surrounding courtyard. It was built almost five hundred years ago by my great-great-great-great-great-great-grandfather, and you," he said, "are going to help me reclaim it."
"I was talking about this."
"Oh," he said. "That's melba toast."
"It's not bad."
"You should try the aspic."
"Aspic?" I said. "What in the goddamn hell is that?" Your grandfather was kind enough to point it out.
"Oh," I said, "you mean galeretka. No, but thank you: it makes me puke."
"It makes you puke?"
"I mean gag - I think it's the texture."
"Well, I'm very sorry."
"Not as sorry as my grandmother: it was her favorite dish." Your grandfather didn't know what to say - it was very awkward. "I don't mean to offend."
"Oh no, not at all," he said.
"It's just that we don't use fancy names."
"Oh, quite right. Quite right. Do you interest yourself in gastronomy?"
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.
By then, our Nike had reestablished himself with dearest alma mater. Several times I paid a visit to his house on Prospect Street, but only before he invited Macy to live with him. I heard about that from Luke, when we were discussing his own return to campus. At that point, I knew I could not escape the inevitable reunion; I spent many a day in agonizing self-reflection.
She thought they were going to help her but they helped themselves to her purse. It's not always so easy, though: three men were robbed at gunpoint not far from here. You would never expect it, because it's such a nice place. Well, after I heard those stories, whenever I'd walk up and down this street late at night, and a car was passing, I would pretend to be entering the next townhouse. Nothing ever happened to me though; I'm not afraid; I'll walk you as far as you're going."
And each plant only produces one bunch of fruit." But someone argued that this was a strike against bananas, since they required so much pruning, a labor-intensive task not to be compared with orchard cultivation. This inspired someone to criticize the banana for exploiting the worker, pointing out how U.S. corporations have always dominated the South American industry. This did not sit well with Banana War boy, and the climate of the conversation continued to warm, until, after Nike mentioned that bananas are available year-round, someone cried out excitedly and said, "You see! You can always count on bananas for your cereal! Well here's the real test, who likes what with their breakfast?"
To illustrate: Macy would enquire as to my family relations, and how we ended up in Austria even though we weren't exactly Austrian; so I would discuss at great length our family history and related anecdotes, et cetera, and then maybe I'd mention something about art and Macy would be very keen on learning about it, would enquire as to my interest in art and what I've studied, et cetera, and I would be more than excited to give him every detail. As time passed, subjects would vary, but our encounters together were like episodes of one long exhaustive conversation that we would necessarily pick up whenever we found ourselves alone.
Four years ago (you shall remember) I was in Austria (the beloved Österreich! may she grow in peace!) visiting our mother's cousin, whose daughter was able to provide me with an almost constant companionship. One Sunday, we went drinking in a rather nice section of Vienna, one which I had not frequently visited, and to which we had come with the purpose of sight-seeing, only to be swayed from our plan by the coming dusk, and by a flyer we picked up advertising a particularly rewarding drink special.
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.
Junior stuttered, "I know they're prone to many illnesses. It was my father's hobby. I tried to put an end to it. A lot of people rely on the farm. They convinced me to keep it. I'm eager to hear what you have to say. Perhaps you can visit the place. Show me what's wrong with it."
Everybody-including Junior-was somewhat stunned by his deference.
A few weeks later, Davis surprised the office by announcing her engagement to the chief operations officer. Junior was relieved-until Sammy D whispered in his ear, "Your mother wants to speak to you."
He asked, "Why did she send you?" Sammy D gazed into his eyes.
Junior attempted to teach Harry Connick the fundamentals. Standing before him like a friendly drill sergeant, he gripped a frisbee using different techniques. With a clear, forceful tone, he explained, "This is an ancient game. It traces back to the discus-throwing championships of ancient Greece. There are many modern variations, including golf frisbee, ultimate frisbee, and even guts frisbee."
Harry Connick gulped. "I'm sorry," he interrupted. "Did you say, guts?" Junior threw as lightly as he could. Harry Connick cringed. The flimsy plastic bounced off his pigeon chest.
He let go. He unbuttoned his waistband. The woman crawled away like a worm. Luka got his pants off. He jerked down his underwear. He only had patience to get them past his knees. He hopped after the woman. He snagged her by the ankles. He pulled her in. He seized the upper reaches of her thighs. His thick thumbs dug into her crotch. He spread apart her lips.
Luka leaned in. He smiled. He said incredulously, "You're a blond?" The question went unanswered.
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: Kissa kissa kissa ha!
Winna tee, winna tee.
Tee tee ta.
FLETCHER: What the devil was that?
LESBIAN: It's a haka dance developed by the Maori people of New Zealand. I didn't know Aussies could appreciate it.
LUKE: It's me old school chant - thanks to the junior rugby union.
GREY GOOSE: Your husband's been teaching it to me.
ALICE: That's what you do together. I thought you drank.
GREY GOOSE: Actually, I just challenged him to a drinking contest. He accepted.
LUKE: I'm not gonna let him drink with the flies, am I? Besides, he just challenged me.
– ACT I, lines 373-382
(LESBIAN and MS. JACKSON exit. ALICE feels a pain in her neck and begins to rub it.)
FLETCHER: I didn't want any. It was considerate of you to ask. My mother is so kind and thoughtful. What's wrong?
ALICE: I strained my neck swimming.
FLETCHER: Let me take a look.
ALICE: It's alright.
FLETCHER: Are you sure?
ALICE: I'll manage.
FLETCHER: I happen to be a professional masseuse.
ALICE: I thought you were a carpenter's apprentice.
FLETCHER: On an island like this, there's no such thing as strict specialization of labor.
– ACT I, lines 439-447
ALICE: It's difficult. I like it. Sometimes I do wish he were more sensual.
MS. JACKSON: I know the feeling.
ALICE: When we have sex, it's all about the penetration. There is no foreplay.
LESBIAN: Nothing?
ALICE: Spread 'em and weep.
MS. JACKSON: Men are such animals - present company excepted, of course.
ALICE: Did you see that performance they put on?
LESBIAN: Absolutely dreadful.
ALICE: I thought it was sexy.
LESBIAN: It reminds me of a dance I saw in Fiji.
– ACT I, lines 394-403
(KOKOMO exits.)
GREY GOOSE: Excellent! The day of reckoning has come at last. For too long now, the crimes of my distant past have tarried and o'er me their shadows cast. Restitution's been made, Heavenly King! Grant that my wife be open to forgive a reformed man, who only wants to live in his own home - not like a fugitive on an island full of gossiping cows, who whisper lies, make innuendo, roll their eyes and giggle nonsense, and yet dole out their judgments as if they were a whole judge and jury. Let them bear witness that no woman will run me out of my own home - even if I have to burn it down!
A story book full of short fiction stories. An interesting bedtime mystery. A fairy tale. Science fiction romance. Adult life. Uninspiring gay fiction. Horror.
By the time Captain Orbitz returned to Alliance headquarters in the Solar System two things had happened. First his DNA was found at a raided underground Wiki-en meeting place on Mars. Second and more importantly the longest-serving courier in Alliance history with a record 32 trips across branes was officially declared lost. He entered a singularity in the Cygnus Arm and two hundred fifty milliarc-seconds later his ship's quantum entangler had yet to respond. There were no sightings of him at any manned transit points in either Alliance or Alliance-friendly territory. No wreckage was found. The man like so many interstellar travelers before him had simply vanished into the two-dimensional fracas known as inter-brane space. This made Orbitz not technically the oldest man in the Orion Arm but its first born citizen. His long dead mother had given birth to him thousands of years ago. It made him a celebrity.
"I'm sorry," said Orbitz. "I must be mistaken." He turned to the door. The surveillance team watched him come outside. He looked left. He looked right. He crossed the street. There was a cheap hotel on the other side. Orbitz got himself a room on the second floor. The surveillance team pointed their little parabolic dishes. They heard nothing but breathing.
The wedding was postponed. Steve O got a chance to look deep into his heart. He explored his feelings. Adam helped Steve O realize that enjoying a finger up the bum had nothing to do with being gay. If Steve O had romantic feelings for Adam, as Adam might still have for Steve O, there were ways in which they could develop those feelings in a non-sexually threatening way.
The first lesson of womanizing had been learned. It was not to be the last. At another party Steve O set his sights on the pretty redhead playing his daughter. She taught him his second lesson. A womanizer must respect not only his elders but his peers. As Steve O came back with her beer he found her making out with the freshman playing Steve O's son. His name was Adam and he was pretty.
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 ear 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 "ear." 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 support the "Ear" page up and running...
If you love women and art...
Michal is exporting art...is he crackers?
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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