Michal declines to study the concept of supplementing his weighty Fiction Corpus with a history of sports art; cites fatigue
Posted:
I can't challenge the idea of utilizing English as a global lingua franca. I don't think highly of the prosaic technique by which English is taught.
Honing a person's skills with a language isn't like pioneering a brighter bead. A language - a spoken tongue - isn't merely a tool that you can learn to employ with a greater amount of precision. A shared tongue can not be unyoked from the shared logic of a circle 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 cheat them out of its cultural context. A capable instructor has to find a way to introduce it; the discerning student ventures out to seek it.
A dictionary - properly used - can become an influential tool. The best dictionaries describe a language on the basis of a specific corpus, a set of written works of varying size and consistency. This corpus might contain anything from a book about literature to a whole bunch of fantasy fiction. I watched many nights pass forging my "humungous" Fiction Corpus in order to form a specific 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 examined them, reformulating them - not merely to teach an American tongue but to be an advocate for the human spirit, and to coax 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...
One week after arriving in Europe, I met a woman in the sauna on the ground floor of the large villa she shared with her ex-husband. Four weeks later she was sharing a small rain-soaked tent with me in Vienna, our little gas-fired stove barely capable of boiling a cup of water. It wasn't until we reached Croatia that we decided to invest in a large electric kettle. It was quite the luxury and it made me very happy.
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.
As far apart culturally as we may have been, we spent 6,000 miles in one car. We spent over 40 nights in one tent. We started learning how to listen to each other. We started learning how to accept our differences and how to let them help us instead of driving us apart. Slowly but surely, we started learning how to beat the devils that abuse us.
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 Finger
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 finger in some kind of way.
If you want to communicate an idea using the word finger, 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 finger is located in the fabric of a language, the better you will be at exploiting its cultural power.
Pronunciation of Finger
I have yet to publish a pronunciation for the word finger.
Video of me pronouncing "finger."
Definition of Finger
I have yet to publish the definition of finger.
I'm sure it won't take too long.
Common use of finger in illustrative example sentences
I have yet to come up with a fourth sentence using the word finger.
Audio of me saying the sentence:
I have yet to come up with a fifth sentence using the word finger.
Audio of me saying the sentence:
I have yet to come up with a sixth sentence using the word finger.
Audio of me saying the sentence:
I have yet to come up with a seventh sentence using the word finger.
Audio of me saying the sentence:
Usage of Finger 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 finger.
That doesn't mean it's not high on my list.
Table of Frequency for the Word "Finger."
This table lists in descending order the total number of times that the word fingerand 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 finger, 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 #29
bieber is already using his account to tease me. i dont have fat fingers. unless. he means my. he couldn't possibly know. the desk is locked.
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.
Terrorists were fascinated by cruelty. By the time Jesus regained most of what had lain in terrorist hands, he was already surprised by the number of torture chambers he had found, whose victims could not have possibly been of any strategic importance to terrorism. Nobody was going to make a sensation out of dead citizens whose heads had been decapitated, who had been skinned - no doubt alive - and then force-fed the flesh from their fingers. Nobody liked that except for terrorists, and nobody was going to run and hide who hadn't already done so after hearing that terrorists were even remotely in the neighborhood. It served no purpose but to appease a terrorist's curiosity. There was something extremely fascinating about force-feeding a man his bloody detached penis and testicles. It was great fun for those who considered such victims to be more than guilty for the American government's persecution of their families and their deliberate attempts to starve the nations of outer space.
"Fucking bullshit!" he yelled. "You better shoot me right now, boy, or else you're gonna have to shoot me in the fucking back." He started backing away. "When I come back," he said, jabbing a finger in Jesus's direction, "you're gonna learn the meaning of pain." He turned around.
At one point, a stomach virus was going around. Sapper was hit two days before Jesus felt it. The night before your father got sick, he made himself sausages and ate them with ketchup. A week earlier, Jesus had felt a craving for ketchup, and, ordering Sapper to buy as many different varieties as he could find, Jesus had been given mild and spicy ketchup, ketchup in glass jars and plastic bottles, ketchup with and without onions, and so forth and so on. Jesus had the virus for a good four days: the first day was the worst: that night he vomited four times. The second day was better, but he still couldn't eat anything. The third day, Jesus was still confined to bed, but at least he was eating. On the fourth day, Jesus thought he was fine. That night, he ate sausages with ketchup. Waking up in the wee hours of the morning, Jesus vomited and felt his stomach tumbling and twisting and turning around. The feeling was gut-wrenching. Jesus concentrated all his psychophysical effort into calming his stomach. It worked, but it also required all of Jesus's attention. He couldn't sleep. When he moved a finger, his stomach rebelled. If his eyelids twitched, he lost concentration. Jesus had to give up. Suffering great pain, he thought to himself: they've poisoned me! like they did to that Ukrainian.
The Commandant was white-haired, with big hands, an obtrusive lower lip, and a squashed nose. On his left hand, his index finger was missing. He was a real farmer, I thought.
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.
Yesterday morning Nike was sitting at my table. He was reading the Sunday newspaper. He was hunched over the table, with his elbows firmly placed. He was nibbling on his breakfast. He was wearing his reading glasses, the glasses you rarely ever see him wearing. He was chewing on his breakfast. With his free hand he was wiping the corner of his mouth with his finger.
– Title 3, Regarding a Dream, Chapter 1, The First Day, Part 1, Victory & Calendar Reform, Section 1, Cancer, Paragraph 5, Clauses 1-7
NIKE: Well, if you really want to know what I think: I think homosexuality is like...picking your nose. There's a lot of people who say it's disgusting. But when nobody's looking, they try to sneak a little finger up their nose.
ANDY: Yeah, but should you be able to pick your nose in public or not?
I might even venture to finger it - that dark beauty - as the source of her present marital troubles. God knows that Albert has always been far from transparent - even to my own critical perception - but his reticence is no sign of tranquility, and though we may have once considered it a complement to Indiana's more garrulous nature, we may now have to add it to the strangeness that has always insinuated some sort of unstable neurosis in that man.
End this agitato. End this agitato. End this crescendo, diminuendo, crescendo poco a poco reaching the heights of human ecstasy, flittering our fingers, curling our toes and floating, floating down, too heavy to fly, shattering, and falling like rain in a million pieces down, to the ground, away from God's majesty - dashing madly across the keys my fingers flying ran the crescendo up in haste: no love to feel, no love to seize, my heart dying of disease - no time to waste - headlong falling into a pool and treading water, trying to swim, trying to leave but something pulling, pulling down, I forced my way up and out, climbing but slipping, falling, and then regaining myself and then stopping now...ritenuto...oh ritenuto: give me God's mercy: give me God's mercy: give me a moment now, end me my heartache now, end me my heartache now, please give, now: sotto voce, ben legato, molto più lento: o lullaby, sweet lullaby, bring me to sleep, sweet lullaby. Sing away my fears, put aside my tears - please, the Lord and I need to rest a while. O lullaby, bring a dream to me, let me see a dream, and regarding dreams, let me guard my dreams, let me live my dreams, let me, lullaby, dream - oh, what a beautiful melody fills my heart and wraps around me. How in love I was that night! How furious were my body, mind and soul arguing with each other. But, for a moment, playing this trio, life was quiet. My heart was tranquilized. My thoughts were suspended, my soul bathing in joy. And my eyes were drinking it. They came a long way to find themselves a watering hole, and finally, the time was right - no enemies nearby, no traps to catch me - everything was peaceful. And that was no surprise: for who should be standing guard? Indiana was! and may she continue in my dreams: for she was standing in front of me like a figure from the grandest of my dreams, like she were surrounded by fog, and only her own body could escape its grayness. She stood there in the doorway like grace itself, the light from the kitchen granting her man's electrical mandorla.
– Title 3, Regarding a Dream, Chapter 3, The Third Day, Part 2, Prayer & The Reformation, Section 13, The Role of Music, Paragraph 6, Clauses 6-19
Then, one more whisper of a dream; the second chord breaks. So be it. My dream must come to an end. And I am left: dashing madly across the keys - my fingers flying ran the crescendo up in haste: no love to feel, no love to seize, my heart dying of disease - no time to waste - headlong falling into a pool and treading water, trying to swim, trying to leave but something pulling, pulling down, I forced my way up and out, climbing but slipping, falling, and then regaining myself and then stopping now...ritenuto...oh ritenuto: give me God's mercy: give me God's mercy: give me a moment now, end me my heartache now, end me my heart...now.
– Title 3, Regarding a Dream, Chapter 3, The Third Day, Part 2, Prayer & The Reformation, Section 13, The Role of Music, Paragraph 8, Clauses 1-4
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.
His fingers found the loop. His hands curled around it. He could afford to maneuver. Crawling like an inch worm with his buttcheeks, Patsy made it all the way to the barbershop window. He realized it was Monday. "Of course," he thought. "The barbershop is closed on Monday. How disappointing."
She turned to take the candle. There was blood on her fingers. Tatum jumped to her elbows. She turned to the body. Her heart raced. She couldn't see anything. She grabbed the candle. She brought it close. Shaq was stabbed. There was a knife sticking out of his chest.
Tatum gasped. The candle dropped. It fell onto the blanket. Threads started to burn. Tatum picked it up. She lifted it in front of her like a talisman. Wax dripped onto her hand.
At the bus station, Shephard was forced to part ways with his new friend. He watched her walk into the gentle Kashgar afternoon, hips swinging in her light, flower-print skirt-in Shephard's mind-to the doleful tune of Korobushka, playing slowly at first in his head, quickening pace with each progressively tantalizing step, until the remains of his hope were crushed. "Game over," he thought to himself. He turned to Clark. He cried. "How could you? You let her slip through our fingers."
Miss April wished her luck. Tatum wasn't sure how they should part. She wanted to peck Miss April quickly on the lips. She tried to get close. Her bags got in the way. She put the bags down. She stepped forward. It was too late for a quick peck.
The women gazed into each other's eyes. Tatum smiled. She looked down. She could feel Miss April staring at her. There was no turning back. Tatum collected Miss April's fingers in her hand. She looked up.
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.
GREY GOOSE: Every time you had her sweet fish sauce underneath your fingernails-
FLETCHER: You couldn't help but think: wouldn't it be lovely?
GREY GOOSE: We understand.
FLETCHER: We want it ourselves.
GREY GOOSE: It's only natural.
FLETCHER: Take advantage of this wonderful opportunity.
GREY GOOSE: We can't wait to see you do it.
MS. JACKSON: I'm not going to have sex with my cook!
– ACT I, lines 1152-1159
KOKOMO: It's easy. The very thought of prostituting myself makes me sick to my stomach. All I have to do is stick my finger in.
FLETCHER: I assure you, Mother, to the modern woman it comes quite naturally.
GREY GOOSE: They do it all the time.
MS. JACKSON: You knew about this?
FLETCHER: Know about it? He was twisting my arm for a bigger cut.
GREY GOOSE: I deserve it. I'm the one who brought in those big spenders. John the orthodontist?
FLETCHER: He wanted everything just right.
GREY GOOSE: Michael the podiatrist?
KOKOMO: He put his foot in it.
GREY GOOSE: Rob the general practitioner?
– ACT II, lines 441-450
(ALICE exits.)
GREY GOOSE: Alone at last.
KOKOMO: You've done your business: now leave.
GREY GOOSE: There's more. I need your help.
KOKOMO: Again?
GREY GOOSE: Yes.
KOKOMO: I'm not your little plaything.
GREY GOOSE: Do you want to be thrown out? I didn't think so. Come with me to the kitchen. I need those tender little hands.
KOKOMO: This is the last time, Grey Goose. You've made me sore from all your stupid amusements. I can barely even walk or lift a finger. I'm totally spent.
A story book full of short fiction stories. An interesting bedtime mystery. A fairy tale. Science fiction romance. Adult life. Uninspiring gay fiction. Horror.
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 Amazon called his team. One half was still following Orbitz on the cruise ship. The other half was in front of the shop. He ordered them into the neon building. They walked up to the second floor. The team leader paused. He could hear something in the room ahead. It sounded like a man rapping his fingers on a desk. He pushed open the door. There was no desk. There was no man. There was clutter everywhere. Strange objects of art and furniture stacked on top of each other loomed from every corner. The rapping continued. It was slower now. It was more cautious. The men squeezed into the room. All of them were transfixed by the sound. It was coming from behind a low curtain. The curtain was draped over what seemed like a crate. Or a cage. The men crowded in front of it. The leader reached out his hand. He grabbed a corner of the curtain. He lifted it.
Indiana lay her head on the crook of my neck. I slid my fingers beneath her underwear. I lifted her onto my hands. I held her by the skin of her bottom. I rocked her. I kept pace with her lilting chest. Our shoulders rose and fell. We were like a mother and child.
She told me Albert was sick. He was going to die. I cooed. I kissed her on the cheek. I told her I would put her to bed.
In college, the question came up again. In the middle of executing the procedure, obviously under the influence of alcohol, Steve O was taken aback by a sudden tanginess to the meal. It intrigued him. He explored further. Deeper. When he realized what he was doing he stopped. He was in shock.
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 finger 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 "finger." 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 support keeps the "Finger" page up and running...
If you love women and art...
Michal is importing art from Poland...is he daffy?
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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