Michal's wrestling with the potential of enhancing his solid Fiction Corpus with a history of social reforms; cites fatigue
Posted:
I don't question the potency of honoring English as everybody's second language. I don't have faith in the unrewarding steps through which the English language is presented for study.
Refining a person's know-how with a language isn't like developing a smoother toilet paper. A language - a spoken tongue - is not merely a tool that you can learn to wield with a greater amount of precision. A spoken language can not be disconnected 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.
Teaching a person to recite English is to cheat her out of its cultural context. An informed teacher must have a blueprint for introducing it; the insightful student goes out to seek it.
A dictionary - properly used - can become an influential tool. A decent dictionary will describe words based on a particular corpus, a body of written language of various size and consistency. This corpus may contain anything from a book about literature to some really short bedtime stories. I watched many nights pass laboring on my "awe-inspiring" Fiction Corpus 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 crafted a million words and I have classified them, reformulating them - not merely to teach the English tongue but to be an advocate for the human spirit, and to coax that soul or spirit not just to recite but to happen.
Help Replace Passive-aggressive behavior With Truth in Art
Posted:
Strength and dignity are her clothing...
Proverbs 31:25
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.
I knew naturism was popular in many parts of Europe and as an artist who had worked on body acceptance for his entire career I was keen on documenting some small part of it. Lo and behold, I found a very important part of it hiding in Poland. Her name was Margo.
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.
Do unto others as you would have done unto you. But how to judge what we would want done to us if we've never been in somebody else's shoes? If we've never been abandoned by our mother, how do we treat somebody who has? Somebody who seems to constantly suffer the repurcussions of it? Margo and I had 46 days and 6,000 miles to try on each other's shoes. We had one car and one tent in which to hear each other's words. We learned to cooperate. We started learning how to listen.
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 Local
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 local in some kind of way.
If you want to communicate an idea using the word local, 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 local is located in the fabric of a language, the better you will be at exploiting its cultural power.
Pronunciation of Local
I have yet to publish a pronunciation for the word local.
Video of me pronouncing "local."
Definition of Local
The word local refers either to a kind of artifact or to a kind of person whose cultural or physical influence isn't transferred over long distances. It can also refer to a person who lives within a few miles of a given reference point. It is also fetishized to mean a thing whose cultural influence or dynamic should be contained to an area of a few square miles.
Common use of local in illustrative example sentences
I have yet to come up with a fourth sentence using the word local.
Audio of me saying the sentence:
I have yet to come up with a fifth sentence using the word local.
Audio of me saying the sentence:
I have yet to come up with a sixth sentence using the word local.
Audio of me saying the sentence:
I have yet to come up with a seventh sentence using the word local.
Audio of me saying the sentence:
Usage of Local 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 local.
That doesn't mean it's not high on my list.
Table of Frequency for the Word "Local."
This table lists in descending order the total number of times that the word localand 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 local, 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 #6974
it has been agreed that .in accordance with local parlance. mec or mex in the plural will refer to any enemy combatant. including engineers.
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.
One day, not long before the terrorists attacked Poland, Lucius and Columbus brought two guests into Jesus's apartment. One was a Krupnik. The other was soon to be his brother-in-law. He was an Irishman. Columbus had met the Krupnik at some dance club in Wroclaw: the Rathaus Club, named after the German word for Town Hall, seeing as how the club was located in Wroclaw's Town Square, not far from the actual Town Hall, and apparently the club catered to a more high-class clientele - hence the German name. The club was owned by Leonard Cohen-Krupnik and was probably always full of Krupniks and since Columbus had been spinning there one night, the two met. Columbus was spinning that night at a local club in Treblinka. Having invited his new Krupnik friend (who had brought along his future brother-in-law), Columbus extended his invitation to Jesus, but Jesus had other plans.
Some guy bought some land on the opposite side of Sts. Peter and Paul. Inviting the local farmers to come, he called it the 'New New Marketplace.' They did come; so did the men selling clothes and odds and ends; your grandfather went too - then the local shopkeepers complained: the owner of the property didn't have a vending permit; the police came on the very first day and told everyone to leave. They were threatened with fines and other kinds of unpleasantries.
So it was that coal became a black market commodity. Illegal to burn, illegal to possess, and illegal to sell without license, coal trafficking became a top priority for the national government. Regional governments were more sympathetic. Local governments, if not openly rebellious (like the ones in Upper Silesia), were, at least, secretly tolerant (if not complicit). This was a new form of corruption that spread across party lines and, in essence, pitted more populist leaders against the broad-minded, more rank-and-file office holders against their superiors, and more and more of the masses against the elite.
But I doubted it. The newspapers had been full of stories about the general defense-budget crisis for the past several months; the crisis was particularly painful in Silesia, where the provincial government, a raggedy assortment of bureaus without a clearly defined leadership, and which, up till then, had taken no part in military affairs, being told by the national government to start covering its 'own' costs (overburdened as Parliament was by federal requirements to the European Union), and being faced with two new hungry swine, the Silesian Air Squadron and the 2nd Infantry Brigade, decided, according to the generous fashion, to delegate one of its newly endowed responsibilities to a local organ of government, and, since the 2nd Infantry had, as its base, a meager five hundred hectares within the city environs of Wroclaw, the thankless job of maintaining military effectiveness for the 2nd Infantry remained in the hands of its commander, a certain General Stefan Lipski, while the terrible onus of paying for it fell squarely onto the shoulders of Edward Handerek, President of Wroclaw, who claimed he didn't have the money for it either.
"I guess it was a local story. Anyway, it was hilarious: all these hooligans signed up and they started having street fights with scourges. Innocent people got caught in the crossfire. The priests realized they had lost control of the whole thing. There were rival flagellation confraternities that only ended up perpetuating street gang rivalries. It was ridiculous." We laughed.
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.
Is there a good old-fashioned Irish pub around here?" Christie wasn't sure: "There are a few big ones I know about. But I don't think they're really Irish; I think they just say that." Macy said it didn't matter, but Christie continued: "There's a place called Filthy McNasty's; I don't think you want to go there. Besides, it's too far away; there's no underground station nearby. There's a really big place on the other side of Piccadilly; I don't remember its name. You know what? You should go to the Sports Café. That place is really big; not the best place, but a lot of Americans go there - that makes it almost Irish. I don't know what the food is like though; I don't suppose it's any good." Christie had to admit she couldn't really help us; we told her that we would fend for ourselves. The three of us continued walking northeast until Macy and I could no longer hold out, and, slipping into a local pub, we told Christie to break a leg.
This initially did not disturb me; I only began to worry after my repeated invitations and overtures being politely but habitually dismissed, I began to spot him and his friend at the very same events to which I had invited him in vain, a pattern which culminated at the local festival. There were no punching machines, no Reisenrad, no ice cream; but the crummy rides and amusements did carry the memory of better times, along with the petty consolation that the Viennese Prater was so much better than this dismal place. I challenged Macy to a duel on the air mattress. He said no, he didn't feel like it. After a few minutes, he took his friend instead.
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.
"To what?"
"To our own kidnapping. The investigator brought guards from a special armed police unit. They have sub-machine guns."
"How many of them are there?"
"Two. He's got a guy from the local PSB as well. You were wrong about them. They have guns. This one has a nine millimeter."
"It's not like that," explained Shephard. "We went to school together."
"I'm happy for you."
Shephard asked about the local bazaar. The hostess told him he was in luck. Tomorrow was Sunday. The crowds would spill onto the main road. It couldn't be missed. Shephard thanked her.
When the embassy hosted functions for locals, the mayor would complain his beshbarmak had too much coriander. The Foreign Minister preferred shashlyki without eggplant. The woman from the US-AID office would insist that all foods containing horsemeat be kept on a separate table. "I don't care if it's in their culture," she explained. "If there's going to be a boiled sheep's head, I don't want to see it."
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."
Customs had to be learned. Every time Patsy went to investigate a famous statue of Buddha, he would spend the night at a local hot springs. Japanese etiquette demands that, before entering a public bath, one first wash himself thoroughly with soap and water. To this end, a well-drained area is prepared with spigots, buckets and ladles.
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.
ALICE: Where is she?
KOKOMO: In what seems like paradise: Western Samoa.
ALICE: I thought you liked it here.
KOKOMO: I do. I can't help being homesick. Norfolk is small. Between the locals and the tourists, I think I've had enough.
ALICE: I understand.
KOKOMO: There aren't so many tourists back home. The islands are big. Half the land is forest.
ALICE: It sounds nice.
KOKOMO: It's a mixed blessing. Few tourists means fewer crowds but also less money.
ALICE: Do a lot of Samoans emigrate?
KOKOMO: They do. It's different for me. I'm half European. My father's from Vladivostok.
– ACT I, lines 830-839
FLETCHER: I lost my virginity to a married woman. Her husband was abroad - had been for several months. She did plan on joining him, but she loved sex - she admitted it - more than she loved her husband. Then again, I didn't really know the man. Maybe he was the same way. Maybe he was a scoundrel. Some women are just crazy. I was doing work on her balcony at the time. She would undress in front of me through the window. She even let me watch her masturbate. I was around eighteen years old. She was forty. I had no idea what to do. I couldn't do anything, anyway. I was surrounded by my crewmates. When we finished, we packed up and we left. I didn't see her for several weeks. In due course, we bumped into each other at one of the local pubs. She asked me how I was doing. I told her I was fine. I bought her a few drinks. She asked me to take her home. I did. On her front porch, as she was removing her keys from her pocket, she dropped something.
ALICE: A condom.
FLETCHER: How did you know?
ALICE: I guessed.
FLETCHER: Is that something you've done?
ALICE: I've never done it. I assume, if you want to get your point across, that's the most powerful way.
FLETCHER: It's true. I couldn't help myself. I had to go up to her room.
ALICE: Did you like it?
FLETCHER: I loved it - as it was happening. When we were finished, I felt as dirty as a pig. She wanted me to come every Wednesday afternoon like clockwork.
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 Amazon was not convinced. He wanted spies. He wanted somebody Orbitz could not resist. He asked for and received approval for an arousal profile. It determined that Orbitz's taste for the opposite sex tended towards the slighty exotic. His taste for men closely matched his own mostly human pedigree. Out of all Alliance staff members in the local database two scientists fit the profile perfectly. A human astrobiologist named Pfizer Microsoft and an astrolinguist of mostly Eridanian extraction pursuing a medical degree. Neither had according to their records any reason to be loyal to Orbitz. They had never met the man. The Amazon made sure. He first trotted Doctor Microsoft before a board of inquiry. The Astrazeneca listened as he vehemently denied being a Wiki-en. They said, "This is truth." Then the Amazon brought out the Eridanian. She had been born and raised in the Solar System. She had never visited her ancestral world. She was young. Innocent. Her skin beautifully tinged with blue. She said her name was Sara Lee.
I used my weekend to visit town. I bought a small grammar and books about local history and the Great Patriotic War. I also bought another box of chocolates.
"Barbara replied, 'Two make darkness. Three lighten all the world.' It was her way of introducing him to her belief in the Holy Trinity. Her father became enraged. He took her to the local magistrate. For the sake of her pagan soul, he had her tortured. After much suffering, her own father beheaded her."
"That's awful," said Indiana. "What does it have to do with cherry branches?"
I learned later that the headman of the village had asked that I be replaced. He had claimed to the Ministry that I was crazy. That I talked to myself. That all the parents in the village were afraid to leave their children with me. I proved him wrong. If not for Putin and my three pupils, I would've been packing my bags for Moscow that very weekend. I would have lived in the village for all of two weeks instead of almost twenty years. I would never have stayed to teach a community of children how to grow up. I would never have married a local Russian girl. I would never have become the village headman. I would never have run for mayor.
The trip was off on the wrong foot. It didn't improve when we reached Woodstock. As Steve drove through the town I took notice of the locals. Most of them seemed normal. A lot of people seem normal. One of them stood out. A tall lanky redheaded woman with long hair wearing a shapeless robe was lurching down the sidewalk in giant flip-flops. I thought to myself, "That woman looks lost."
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 local 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 "local." I hope I can get it done sometime soon. -Michal
St. Sebastian was a member of the Roman Emperor's praetorian guard who had the audacity to teach Christian values while on the job. I think active duty American military men and women who don't vote or who don't publicly express a political opinion because of the uniform are either being idiotic or are being cowed by the threat of punishment from a superior. Either way, they're eunuchs. My purpose in creating the St. Sebastian Series is to put the flesh and face of the true soldier front and center. The good soldier puts his mission ahead of himself. He often ends up dead. The true soldier knows a bad mission when he sees one and he isn't afraid to say it. Saint Sebastian was not a cow, despite what clever people would have you believe. Saint Sebastian is a patron saint for all protestors who face the arrows of the mob for speaking out.
Help maintain the "Local" page...
If you love women and art...
Michal is importing art...is he daft?
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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