Michal's meditating on the thought of reinforcing his sizeable Fiction Corpus with a history of canvas wall art; cites fatigue
Posted:
I don't doubt the potency of honoring English as a worldwide lingua franca. I don't think highly of the prevailing way in which the English language is taught.
Reenforcing one's skills with a language isn't like introducing a sharper spear. A language - a living tongue - isn't just a tool that you can learn to exploit with a greater amount of precision. A shared language cannot be cut off from the shared logic of a group of people of which it is a description. A language isn't recited; it happens - and keeps happening as long as a circle of people keeps using it.
To make a pupil recite English is to cheat her out of its cultural context. An informed educator has to have a strategy for introducing it; the smartest pupil goes out to seek it.
A dictionary - properly used - can become an influential tool. The best dictionaries define a language based on a particular corpus, a set of writing of various size and consistency. A corpus can contain everything from a book about literature to a lot of great fiction books. I suffered many a sleepless night creating my "trifling" Fiction Corpus to form a peculiar type of dictionary based on the ability of one man to tell a story in myriad forms. It is a labor of love and listening.
I have drafted a million words and I have catalogued them, reshaping them - not just to teach an American language but to reveal 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...
My plane touched down in Poland on June 20th. A month later I was in Austria. Two days later, Slovenia. The next day, Croatia. A week later, Italy. The next day, Switzerland. The next day, France. The next day, Germany. The next day, Belgium. The next day, Holland. All with a woman I had met my first weekend on the Continent.
As an artist inspired by a young woman's struggle with self-esteem and bulimia, body acceptance had always featured prominently in my aesthetic. Having recently discovered naturism and its mantra of body acceptance in the United States, I was eager to explore the style and philosophy of naturist clubs and the beauty of naturist campsites in Europe. By a trick of fate, I found myself first in Bielsko-Biała, Poland. Margo's home.
Though I was born in Europe, I had been brought up from a young age in America, living in states as diverse as Nebraska, Ohio and Connecticut. I was taught American values and saw reality from an American perspective. She was born and raised in a village in Poland. She went to work in the nearest town. The nearest city seemed like the center of the world. The American perspective was not something she was ever planning to see.
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 Edge
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 edge in some kind of way.
If you want to communicate an idea using the word edge, 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 edge is located in the fabric of a language, the better you will be at exploiting its cultural power.
Pronunciation of Edge
I have yet to publish a pronunciation for the word edge.
Video of me pronouncing "edge."
Definition of Edge
I have yet to publish the definition of edge.
I'm sure it won't take too long.
Common use of edge in illustrative example sentences
I have yet to come up with a third sentence using the word edge.
Audio of me saying the sentence:
I have yet to come up with a fourth sentence using the word edge.
Audio of me saying the sentence:
I have yet to come up with a fifth sentence using the word edge.
Audio of me saying the sentence:
I have yet to come up with a sixth sentence using the word edge.
Audio of me saying the sentence:
I have yet to come up with a seventh sentence using the word edge.
Audio of me saying the sentence:
Usage of Edge 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 edge.
That doesn't mean it's not high on my list.
Table of Frequency for the Word "Edge."
This table lists in descending order the total number of times that the word edgeand 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 edge, 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 #2967
mcdonalds dumped binoculars at the train yard. if hes relying on bieber's goggles i may have an edge. although he must still have his scope.
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.
My grandfather's nephew was celebrating something. When I got to his house, I didn't have to knock. The loggia was occupied by a man and a woman smoking. Shaking their hands, I tried to explain that my grandfather's nephew lived here; this was his house; I was trying to visit him. My knowledge of Czech was poor to say the least; Polish only helped so much; English, even less. The man started using German words to help me, but that only confused.
Perhaps someday that city will grow to the very edges of the Hellas plain, measuring the whole two thousand kilometers of the basin's diameter. It would be the greatest city in the solar system. Or, perhaps, the city will be completely abandoned, once the hydrosphere threatens it with flooding. It may depend on what you choose to do, my child. The future of Centropolis hangs in the balance - there is no doubt about it. The city's founders never imagined a day when the atmosphere would reach one thousand millibars, and yet, your great-great-grandfather, Hitler Panzer-Tank, was the first governor to go outside in the light of day without his suit and breathe normally with an oxygen tank.
In those days, there were lots of religious revivals; taking shape in various different forms, most of them were more ephemeral than others. One of the more stable was a local Catholic organization called the Lay Confraternity of the Pilgrim Church. Its main activity was the promotion and support of local processions and pilgrimages. The core membership was very devout, but open to the opinions and desires of those who could only sporadically participate. When I had been younger, it had never seemed as attractive as it did in those days. Your father had walked in a few processions here and there, but apart from that, he was not involved; I had never become a full-fledged member, but, considering the prevailing attitude of dejection, it seemed like the time was ripe.
While sitting on the back step, Jesus had thought himself fearless. But greed only gives the very convincing illusion of fearlessness. The truth is: greed makes a man even more fearful. He fears death, not other men. He trusts other men's greed. The only thing that bothers him is lunacy; it smells of death: inconsistency, the stray bullet - things that cause death. Greed does not cause death; lunatics cause death. Greedy men want to live; they respect that desire in other men. The only problem is: fear breeds lunacy. Since greed causes fear, the cycle spreads: greed, fear, lunacy. The lunatic does not listen to greed; he is spontaneous. He abandons himself to forces beyond his control: his body, other men, God, the Devil. Jesus was on the very edge of lunacy. Sitting in that car, when the Krupnik stopped in front of a building, he said, "Is this it?"
Once upon a time, in fairy book land (that is, medieval Europe), there was a thing called common ground. This almost mythical farmland was controlled by individual farmers only during the growing and harvesting seasons. After that, until the next growing season, it was freely available for grazing and for other purposes. Land with a fence around it, or a hedge, was off limits - enclosed, so to speak. In those days, mankind ruled. Then came a time of change. A strange, new king came to rule in Britain. His name was Progress the First. His Queen was Greed; they named their son, Efficiency, the crown prince. They enclosed all the land in Britain. Other nations soon followed suit. By fiat, they encouraged the enclosure of land. Germany encouraged, then France and Denmark - even the Russian czar. But Poland was among the last: we clung to our old ways. We felt the common ground slipping from underneath our feet. Finally, we had to give way. Progress ruled.
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.
I have no idea what she's like - which is probably why she wasn't in my dream - and my knowledge of Luka is inconclusive. For all I know, his concessions to Nike are part of a language problem. Perhaps he is simply wary of expressing himself in English. After all, it's a third language: in French, he might be a lot more demanding - not to mention Romanian.
– Title 3, Regarding a Dream, Chapter 2, The Second Day, Part 1, Labor & Economic Reform, Section 4, The Male Personality, Paragraph 1
I must not forget that he is also half-Russian, and totally capable of exploiting that angle as well. There's nothing quite like a forceful and rough-spoken Eastern European, especially when you're trying to capture a crowd's attention, hoping that you'll engender in them the appropriate caution, respect, and awe (making sure that their reactions are observed by everyone around you, eager for those feelings to filter down to every individual) until you have just the right timidity, when you can begin condescending to show a gentler edge for their sake, and thereby win them over with your generosity. I wonder whether Nike performed a trick like this with his family, making sure that Luka was close enough to observe his dominance. It might have played a role in the formation of their partnership. Who knows?
– Title 3, Regarding a Dream, Chapter 2, The Second Day, Part 1, Labor & Economic Reform, Section 4, The Male Personality, Paragraph 4
Your destiny is that everything is open to you: now that the world is so open, there is no reason not to apply this new experience that we gained by living through that suspension. And we have given you that legacy; you are all very lucky. You are children of the old millennium; and yet, you are living on the edge of the new one. Your generation is going to define that millennium for the rest of history. And we are all jealous of you: because this whole new world is waiting. It is true: you don't have to change it. You just have to enjoy it. Make it do what you want. That's all you have to do.
But these were more familiar garments: I recognized one of Macy's old T-shirts, one of my favorites, very colorful but tasteful, very tasteful. I had not seen him wear it in years, so many long years, and I imagined a younger Macy wearing it once again. I smiled, and looking around the room, the clutter no longer seemed like clutter. It was Macy: the evidence of his existence. It was his clothing in the bag, his old papers stacked in piles around the room. They were his books, his quarters, his dimes and nickels that were scattered across the desk. It was his pile of pennies that lay separate. It was his bed in the corner, his sheets that were ruffled, his comforter, his blankets falling off the edge.
The man in the passenger seat turned around. He looked at me. It was my friend, Nike. The man driving turned around. He looked at me. It was his cousin's husband, Luka. They did nothing to acknowledge my presence. Facing forward, they started conversing.
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.
Tae stopped. He went to the river's edge. He gazed into the water. It was as clear as day. He could see the bottom. "This water would reach my chest," he thought. "Surely Bo is safe." He kept running. The bank got low and sandy.
Patsy thought it was funny too. Morimoto explained that, due to his ignorance of grammar, it sounded as if he were saying, "Have your mother show me your genitals. You're a beautiful woman. It's time I saw you naked." Patsy denied he had any prior knowledge that "over there" was a euphemism for genitalia.
One misty morning, Tae saw the two in the distance. They were walking hand in hand. They were heading for the hot springs. Tae dropped his spade. He sneaked into the boulders. He tiptoed up the side of the pit. He peered over its edge in time to see the women strip. Tae grinned. When the two embraced, Jing's fleshy body burst Bei's breasts apart like pound cake exploding in a hot oven. They leaned their heads back to kiss. "By all that's holy," thought Tae, "they are in love."
"Don't be modest. You must do something to keep your edge."
"I suppose. Once in a while, I do a little Sudoku."
"Is that some kind of martial art?"
Harry Connick snorted again. "You don't know?" Junior shook his head. "It's in the newspaper." Harry Connick took a moment to gulp. "It's a number puzzle."
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.
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: I forgive you. Be a man once more.
FLETCHER: With a man's heart, I thank you. No longer must you fear my advances. The object of our intimacy has been achieved. I intend to follow your lead and pledge my life to the woman I love.
ALICE: Do I know her?
FLETCHER: You do. I love Kokomo with all my heart. My soul yearns for her soul's touch.
ALICE: In that case, let's finish these scenes in celebration of your restored manhood and your love for Kokomo.
FLETCHER: I know just the right page from which to start. 'What a blessed thing it is to confess! The firmly wound nut, when leashed to its bolt, will weather every blow. No strain is so big, no pressure so strong, no hand so steady, nor no patience so long that would eventually break the metal's hold when applied to just one end. It would turn forevermore in tantalizing defiance. Bring two solid hands together - with two worthy hearts - one to hold tight the bolt, the other to untwist his soul - and you shall feel the immediate release that with it brings joy, the work of resolution, and the ease which maketh that work seem slight.'
ALICE: Well proclaimed, poet!
FLETCHER: If only the rest were so good.
ALICE: I have no doubt it will be.
FLETCHER: As a show of thanks for your faith, I hereby expunge certain kisses from this scene, restoring to its solitary glory the one final kiss of the scene's end - if I may be so bold.
– ACT II, lines 194-203
LESBIAN: It's a tiny bug that invades trees and makes them grow abnormal clumps of tissue. It doesn't have to be a tree. I remember my mother's rose-hedge suffering from gall. I had absolutely no idea what it was. I thought it was some kind of strange flower. It started growing these round, fluffy balls of blood-red fiber. I thought it was gorgeous. It has its own name - a beautiful one. It's known as Robin's pincushion.
MS. JACKSON: Oh, Heavens! My pincushion: it's still missing. I'm sorry, Homo. I didn't mean to interrupt.
LESBIAN: It's not a problem.
MS. JACKSON: I don't understand. Who could've taken it?
LESBIAN: Somebody close to you.
MS. JACKSON: Who?
LESBIAN: More importantly, why?
MS. JACKSON: It's only a pincushion.
LESBIAN: I thought it was more than that.
MS. JACKSON: To my family - not to anybody else.
– ACT I, lines 505-514
LUKE: Too right. Does she do cut lunches?
FLETCHER: I'm sorry?
LUKE: Peter, Pauline, and Mary? Two to one shop? The beast with three backs? Threesomes.
FLETCHER: Of course.
LUKE: I wouldn't want to have a naughty without me wife. It is our honeymoon, after all.
FLETCHER: Is she up for it?
LUKE: I don't know. She is the adventurous type.
FLETCHER: She's never done anything like this before.
A story book full of short fiction stories. An interesting bedtime mystery. A fairy tale. Science fiction romance. Adult life. Uninspiring gay fiction. Horror.
Freedom from liability being the top concern for the Postal Service, something they called "safety," each new carrier assigned to Rural Route 6 was instructed to "watch out for" the postman on Rural Route 2. This involved craning one's head around the hedgerow. This is the instruction Mark the Magnificent received when Rural Route 6 become one of his regular leave replacement assignments. It was a task he followed diligently for about the first three days.
It was too late. Guests were back in the room. I picked up the keys I dropped. My breasts were filling out my dress like curd in cheesecloth. I rushed towards my sweater. Nike sat on its edge. I had to pull it out from underneath him. We exchanged the evil eye. Nike smiled.
Indiana's unsolicited effort to inform, her continuous concern for speaking, that pressing aural nightmare which persists even after you've pledged to avoid its acoustical tyranny, that vocal plying, that musical stream of input once you've gotten used to it, that involuntary sickness betrayed something deliberately hushed, waiting in the dark, reaching for somebody's arm, whispering its presence as she punctuated her sentences, turning her head to stare vacantly past a shoulder for a moment to catch her breath, before turning once more to speak. It seemed like the panic of an animal who knows it's about to be eaten. It was tinged with a growing sense of resignation.
As Mark made his way down to his final stop he noticed the professor standing behind the tripod leaning into the viewfinder. He was so preoccupied with the sight of the bent-over old man he neglected to slow down and crane his head around the hedgerow. Luckily there was nobody there. The cord that connected Bill's hand brake to the actual brake had snapped. He had been dragging it for about the entire route until a customer on Download Street finally stopped him and asked, "What's that noise?" Bill decided it was time to take a break and check it out. He didn't want customers thinking postmen didn't care about their trucks. The customer saw the broken cord. He offered to bring some twine so Bill could tie the loose end to the chassis. Bill said he didn't want to be a bother. The customer insisted. Bill was forced to wait ten minutes until the customer came back and said, "Sorry it took so long. Here's the twine." Bill tied the cord to the chassis and went on his way. Never realizing the broken hand brake had probably saved his life.
I killed a cat. It was an accident. I was trying to cut its fur. I wanted to show Kelly the ugliness of a shaved pussy. I don't deserve two years of prison for it. Cruelty to animals is nothing next to how humans treat each other. They put me in the same prison I used to guard. At the very least I know which of these bitches aren't shaved. Those are the ones I can fuck. Even when I was a kid I couldn't stand a bare floor. All the blood stains and grime and guts on the linoleum in the kitchen. It was disgusting. It always curled up at the edges. Like Kelly's toes. As soon as I get out of here I'll find that girl. I'll get her the biggest razor I can find.
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 edge 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 "edge." I hope I can get it done sometime soon. -Michal
It's natural to hide dirty things. They're embarrassing. But we need to keep in mind that when we hide things that are difficult, we make them seem dirty when they're really something else entirely. And when we keep things that are easy in plain sight, we make them seem clean when they really aren't. That is dangerous.
Your help keeps the "Edge" page up and running...
If you love women and art...
Michal is importing art...is he loony tunes?
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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