Michal's thinking over the thought of enhancing his sizeable Fiction Corpus with a history of inspirational art; cites fatigue
Posted:
I can't reject the possibility of honoring English as a worldwide language. I do question the enfeebling way in which the English language is presented for study.
Strengthening one's artfulness with a language isn't like introducing a stronger fishing reel. A language - a spoken tongue - is not just an instrument that you can teach yourself to exploit with a greater amount of precision. A language cannot be sequestered from the competing values of a society of which it is a description. A language isn't recited; it happens - and keeps happening as long as a circle of people keeps using it.
To make a person recite English is to deprive her of its cultural context. A proper teacher must create a strategy for introducing it; the insightful student goes out to seek it.
A dictionary has the potential to be an influential tool. The best dictionaries define words based on a specific corpus, a set of written language of varying size and consistency. This corpus may contain anything from a book about literature to a whole collection of top fiction. I lost many a sleepless night forging my "insignificant" Fiction Corpus in order to form a new genre of dictionary based on the ability of one man to tell a story in many different forms. It is a labor of love and listening.
I have fashioned a million words and I have classified them, reshaping them - not just to teach an American tongue but to promote the human spirit, and to goad that spirit or soul not just to recite but to happen.
Author's Note: I have been enjoined from sharing the details of my true romance adventure until such time that the other party is prepared to present her perspective on the affair arrangement...
Europe, the summer of 2011. Twelve countries. 46 days. One car. One tent. One man. One woman he's just met.
Though I felt fully formed as a writer, and had been trained in visual language, it was my first time with a professional camera in my hands. I was just learning the ins and outs and had come to Europe to find as diverse a selection of subject matter as possible, preferably something that fit my aesthetic devotion to promoting body acceptance. Enter Margo.
I had grown up in America. Land of opportunity. I came of age in the booming 90s when everything was possible. She had grown up in Poland. She had come of age at a time when the Soviets were making sure that there wasn't even anything to eat in the country. I couldn't even properly translate the word "opportunity" into Polish.
Margo and I spent over 40 days on the road. We started out as basically strangers, but in those 40 days we started listening to each other. We started teaching ourselves how to cooperate. Our journey across Europe may have ended, but our journey towards each other continues. No amount of fear, anger, sadness, disgust or anticipation can stop hope. Slowly but surely, we're 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 Gas
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 gas in some kind of way.
If you want to communicate an idea using the word gas, 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 gas is located in the fabric of a language, the better you will be at exploiting its cultural power.
Pronunciation of Gas
I have yet to publish a pronunciation for the word gas.
Video of me pronouncing "gas."
Definition of Gas
I have yet to publish the definition of gas.
I'm sure it won't take too long.
Common use of gas in illustrative example sentences
I have yet to come up with a fourth sentence using the word gas.
Audio of me saying the sentence:
I have yet to come up with a fifth sentence using the word gas.
Audio of me saying the sentence:
I have yet to come up with a sixth sentence using the word gas.
Audio of me saying the sentence:
I have yet to come up with a seventh sentence using the word gas.
Audio of me saying the sentence:
Usage of Gas 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 gas.
That doesn't mean it's not high on my list.
Table of Frequency for the Word "Gas."
This table lists in descending order the total number of times that the word gasand 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 gas, 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 #2148
i told harley i went for a smoke. she was shocked. in fact she gasped so loudly she had to hush herself.
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.
Jesus had no idea what he was getting into. When he used his keys to open that back door to his uncle's former place of business, there was no way of knowing exactly what lay in store. Clothes? Possibly. Heroin? Doubtful. Arms? Never to be imagined. But there they were, in brilliant rows of polished black: thirty caliber bolt-action self-loading magazine-fed repeating rifles with twenty-five inch barrels and removable scopes! Eight-round clips all over the place! Twenty-two caliber pistonless gas-operated assault rifles with selective fire! Thirty-round curved box magazines all over the place! Even thirty-five caliber blowback-operated machine carbines with telescoping bolts! Fifty-round clips all over the place! Thirty caliber twenty-one pound light machine guns with retractable bipods! Belts of ammunition everywhere! A fifty fucking caliber air-cooled heavy machine gun mounted on a tripod! Christ Buddha! White phosphorus hand grenades - fragmentation, smoke, incendiary - small-arm grenade rounds, grenade launchers, launcher attachments, mortars, rocket launchers, rockets and bombs.
In the history of litigation, nobody had ever dared bring such a case before the International Court of Justice. The main reason was 'contributory negligence,' something which the defendants could easily plead, seeing as how few people could legitimately claim that they had never done anything to contribute to the world's air pollution. Here is where your grandfather's genius came through: he had never let your grandmother drive a car; she had never operated any kind of combustion engine; she had never even made a fire, having always cooked on electric stoves; she was immaculate, having spent most of her life in bed, never having owned a house, and therefore never having had to heat one with coal or gas - she was perfect.
By the time your father found the Internet, there were terrorists in Wroclaw. They were fighting elements of the 2nd Infantry Brigade and Silesian Air Squadron. The search engine's homepage was full of interesting information about terrorism: like, for instance, where to go in case of injury from terrorist attack, how to protect yourself and your beloved family from poison gas, what to do in case a terrorist comes crashing into your apartment, et cetera, et cetera. The only thing it didn't tell you is where the terrorists were - obviously, such information would be redundant if a terrorist were already crashing into your apartment, but if that terrorist were crashing into your neighbor's apartment, it might be helpful to know that. As it was, there was nothing: no information concerning the terrorists' whereabouts. They were in Wroclaw: that's all you needed to know. According to Lucius, we had already known that; we had let them in ourselves. In the end, it was all the same: after all, terrorists were everywhere.
When the town authorities moved the marketplace to the other side of town, your grandfather refused to move. The old marketplace had been only a hundred meters away from Town Square; the mayor had moved it clear across town because somebody's son-in-law was planning to buy some property there and build a giant store complex. Nobody wanted to go that far and that was the point: the mayor had built the new marketplace with town money just so nobody would go there and he could call it unprofitable, which meant that he could then sell it to somebody's son-in-law, who could then build a giant store complex without having to spend all of his money on foundations or water and gas. It was intentional. Everybody knew it.
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.
ANDY: Imagine if the world were made of gas - now wouldn't that be funny? Except gravity would send us all straight to the center. And do you know what happens when your self's centered? You lose all sense of direction. You're lost. You're topsy-turvy and quite helpless.
Great sinew that grips the crest of the pelvic girdle - at the threshold of ilium - whence many great muscles start their journey, such as gluteus maximus, rectus femoris, his three vasti (lateralis, medialis and intermedius): four great ships whose massive hulls you, sartorius, have the privilege of escorting down man's thigh (cuddling them, wrapping yourself over and across them) until you fall spiraling down the inner side, inserting yourself at the tibia, that shimmering place behind which the robust and shapely gastrocnemius makes his dwelling: the great propellant, whom the ancients framed with gleaming buskins, which, connecting with the humble soleus, comes down to the very heel of man: that splendiferous tuberosity! that beneficial growth which takes the weight of our standing, which balances our otherwise feeble attempts at uprightness.
– Title 3, Regarding a Dream, Chapter 2, The Second Day, Part 1, Labor & Economic Reform, Section 22, Encountering Poverty, Paragraph 55
But if he were suddenly stricken by depression - and this habitually returning want of happiness, this terrible unhappiness, were suddenly to plague his existence - even if it were masked by more daily feelings, or was simply manifesting itself as some physical discomfort, an illness perhaps, both lasting and ephemeral, constantly and unnervingly intermittent, in nature perhaps gastrointestinal, or causing migraines, developing into insomnia, or, at the very least, a physical restlessness, Nike would take notice, he would observe the problem, he would try to alleviate the symptoms - he might even see a doctor and be willing to take anti-depressants, although I sincerely doubt that - but he most certainly would pass it off as the most frustrating and completely useless chemical imbalance he would ever have to suffer. He would have no idea why he must suffer it. He would have no idea why he must be unhappy. And the opposite is also true.
– Title 3, Regarding a Dream, Chapter 1, The First Day, Part 1, Victory & Calendar Reform, Section 1, Cancer, Paragraph 6, Clauses 9-13
ANDY: When you boil water, you get a gas called steam. Now what you see rising up from the kettle is something completely different. It's called condensation: it's tiny drops of water suspended in the air. And we like to call that steam; but it's not really steam. It's more like a cloud. Like this: you see that? Isn't that fun? Uh-oh: look over there. What's that?
We should stick with fact - and the fact is: Indiana was flirting with Nike that night. What a tease! Can you believe? Their conversation was like sex - complete with male-centric orgasm - there is no other way of explaining it: pure public exhibitionism. See for yourself, and tell me if I forgot something. It's not word for word - obviously - but pretty close.
JO: Nike: this is our friend Indiana. Indiana: Nike.
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.
They passed a gas station. A few minutes later, they stopped. The road was blocked. A six-wheeled cab-over-engine truck pulling an even longer trailer was overturned. There was no way around. The dunes were too thick on either side. A policeman from the local security bureau told them a bulldozer was on its way.
A man drove by on a motorcycle. Clark watched him weave and dart through the sand. He leapt over the dunes. Clark groaned. "What are we doing with camels?" he asked. "We need two of those."
Harry Connick put on his gloves. He put on his leather cap and his goggles. He watched the children zoom by. Taking one last breath, he gripped the wheel. "Here we go," he whispered. He pressed down lightly on the gas. Shooting off like a toy boat, he reached the first turn and crashed.
Shephard saw it in his mirror. He zoomed to the front of the truck. He cut in front of it. The driver tapped the brakes. He saw Shephard speeding off. He hit the gas. Watermelons poured. The driver noticed it in his mirror. He panicked. He floored the brakes. The humvee almost crashed.
Gog shot to the surface. He gasped for breath. He heaved himself onto his new raft. He watched his wounded prey slip quietly into the deep.
Gog passed out. When he awoke, he thought he was on dry land. The air-sac had stopped bobbing. A stink filled his nostrils. He looked around. The sea was weighed down with rotting fish.
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.
MS. JACKSON: What about my heirloom?
GREY GOOSE: What heirloom?
MS. JACKSON: The one you stole.
GREY GOOSE: I didn't steal anything.
MS. JACKSON: Don't lie to me.
GREY GOOSE: I didn't.
LESBIAN: I did. I packed it away in my bag. I have two tickets for tonight's flight: one for me and one for you. Come. We'll explore the world as your ancestors did: the English and the Polynesians. They went from west to east; we'll go from east to west. We'll show the lost and the lovelorn what true devotion means. We'll scale Victory Peak in China. We'll sail the Punjab. We'll get lost in Gargas Cave. We'll bathe in the hot springs beneath Mount Hekla. We'll catch a Broadway show. We'll do some shopping at Shinjuku Station. We'll do anything your heart desires. All you have to do is liberate yourself. Let your passions run free. Someday we'll return to your native land. It won't ever be the same again. Nevermore will you be shamed. Woman, you'll have made the entire world yours.
MS. JACKSON: Nameless Pain! How am I to deny a penitent husband - newly birthed in remorse, in truth, in love, and desirous of similar gifts from me, his lawfully wedded wife, who, for so long, and with so many tears, kept watch over this heretofore seemingly endless and vain gestation - yet relish this sudden appearance of life: this infant curiosity: this foundling whose love demands more than my adoption could ever give? Oh, Homo: a thousand hearts couldn't beat as strongly as you have made mine beat. This is my home. I can no sooner leave it than change my body for that of a man. The world is yours; go out there and take it. Please leave me in peace. I beg you.
LESBIAN: I'll go. Though it pains me more than female circumcision, I'll go. I'll go because I love you.
A story book full of short fiction stories. An interesting bedtime mystery. A fairy tale. Science fiction romance. Adult life. Uninspiring gay fiction. Horror.
I've never been to Hong Kong. I was in Macao once. I lost 25,000 dollars at the casino. I won it back later in Vegas but while I was in Macao and out of money I went for a walk. To clear my head. To get away from the tables. To my great amusement I stumbled upon a street named after Sir Lima. The street ran right into another street named Rebelo. There was a bank on the corner.
Inside the singularity the four-dimensional tesseract squeezed into the two-dimensional space of the interbrane world. All three ships survived the implosion. In the three-dimensional bubble lelt behind time passed slowly relative to the rest of the universe. Within half an hour their velocity reversed. They swung back towards the brane they had just left. After a small change in heading to the left, a roll to the right and a small adjustment in pitch downward all three ships emerged into the Trapezium cluster. The gas giant loomed nearby. As soon as the Argo was clear of the tesseract Orbitz programmed his ship to land on the surface of the planet. Orbitz Número Dos was going to need it.
Orbitz Número Dos looked at the legs. He hoped for a moment that the body might disappear when he touched it. He suddenly wanted it to be a dream. "If I fail to save them," he said. "If I fall into the gas giant. How do I end up here?"
"The universe," said Orbitz Nombre Trois, "is full of wonders." He picked up his dead arms.
On the third date, although Steve O didn't like to call it that, he made a point of asking about Adam's house. Adam told him it was being fumigated. On the fourth date there was a gas leak. Steve O began to suspect that either Adam was hiding a homeless man in his house or he was in fact homeless.
Steve O learned the truth on the fifth date. Adam brought Steve O home. He introduced him to his fiance. He was marrying a man. The invitations had been sent out. Months ago.
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 gas 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 "gas." I hope I can get it done sometime soon. -Michal
To promote democracy, the strong must empty themselves of their strength. The weak must be granted the opportunity to grow strong. We cannot force the end of patriarchy. To do so simply perpetuates feudalism under a different name.
Your help keeps the "Gas" page...
If you love women and art...
Michal is exporting Polish art...is he berserk?
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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