Michal is studying the potency of strengthening his ponderous Fiction Corpus with a bunch of science fiction books; cites fatigue
Posted:
I believe in the practicality of using English as everybody's second language. I do question the sterile route by which English is presented for study.
Upgrading one's mastery of a language isn't like pioneering a larger dome. A language - a common tongue - is not just a tool that you can learn to manipulate with a greater amount of precision. A spoken tongue can not be torn from the professed knowledge 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 pupil to recite English is to cheat him out of its cultural context. A good teacher has to find a way to introduce it; the smartest pupil goes out to seek it.
A dictionary can be an influential tool. A decent dictionary will describe a language based on a particular corpus, a set of writing of various size and consistency. This corpus could contain anything from a book about literature to some real kid stories. I burned many candles laboring on my "ordinary" Fiction Corpus in order to form a distinct sort 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 prepared a million words and I have categorized them, reformulating them - not just to teach the English tongue but to defend the human soul, and to prod that spirit or soul not just to recite but to happen.
Author's Note: I have been enjoined from sharing the details of my true romance adventure until such time that the other party is prepared to present her perspective on the affair arrangement...
On the second to last weekend of June, 2011, I had joined my fellow naturists at a gathering of the Naturist Society in rural Pennsylvania. The next day I left on a flight for Europe. By the end of the week I had unexpectedly met another naturist, a woman, who was destined to accompany me on a tour of Europe's great naturist resorts.
As an artist, from the beginning of my adult career, my work had been devoted to the problem of body acceptance, a goal that I would later learn was shared by a whole community of people called naturists, a humble portion of which I discovered residing in Poland, a country whose cultural conservatism does not lend itself readily to forward thinking. One of those forward-thinking Polish naturists happened to be Margo.
As an American, I was full of optimism and confidence bordering on recklessness. I was ready to run the wheels off the car I had just bought and eventually I would. As a European, she was cautious and mistrustful. She needed to make sure the air conditioner worked. Which it did. If you knew how to turn the broken knob in just the right way.
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 Corner
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 corner in some kind of way.
If you want to communicate an idea using the word corner, 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 corner is located in the fabric of a language, the better you will be at exploiting its cultural power.
Pronunciation of Corner
I have yet to publish a pronunciation for the word corner.
Video of me pronouncing "corner."
Definition of Corner
I have yet to publish the definition of corner.
I'm sure it won't take too long.
Common use of corner in illustrative example sentences
I have yet to come up with a fourth sentence using the word corner.
Audio of me saying the sentence:
I have yet to come up with a fifth sentence using the word corner.
Audio of me saying the sentence:
I have yet to come up with a sixth sentence using the word corner.
Audio of me saying the sentence:
I have yet to come up with a seventh sentence using the word corner.
Audio of me saying the sentence:
Usage of Corner 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 corner.
That doesn't mean it's not high on my list.
Table of Frequency for the Word "Corner."
This table lists in descending order the total number of times that the word cornerand 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 corner, 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 #3627
im in the boat. in a quiet little corner. time to hit the water.
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.
Sadatmo's men were cornered. If Sadatmo had been smart, he would've made some kind of conciliatory gesture, like an agreement to a partial withdrawal. The Americans were uncomfortable: they didn't like to fight, especially in outer space, where it seemed like nothing was really worth their time. Protestors on Earth were always saying, "no blood for oil!" as if they didn't drink it, but the government was having particular difficulty in defending their lack of compromise. The president said the principle was fighting the aggressor and protecting free trade, but then his secretary said the whole thing was about saving jobs, which really confused people. Instead of capitalizing on this confusion, Sadatmo used fighting words and threatened to drop chemical weapons on top of the Jews. People wondered why Sadatmo had chemical weapons: "who gave him chemical weapons?" they said. Nobody answered.
When the former heroin dealer left his house, I followed. From a discreet distance, I watched him go down the hill that led to the main road. There was a heath on the right side. Beyond the heath was the convent. At one of its back corners, my prey turned right, onto a path that led behind the convent wall. Cutting across the heath, I ran crossways toward the end of that path, and, pushing through the dense greenery that separated it from the heath, I waited. When the unsuspecting man was passing right in front of me, there was no hesitation. I pushed him into the convent wall.
Jesus took her down to the street. At the corner, they turned left. When they reached the main road, Jesus turned right. "On your left," said Jesus, as Zoe ran to catch up, "you'll find Treblinka's Culture Center. Inside, you would find the town's only movie theatre."
They went down John Paul the Second Street and, turning right, they went behind the Convent wall, where, not so long ago - but what seemed like ages ago - a local drug dealer had been ambushed and threatened with a gun. I still had that gun. Reaching the road, they turned left, and, after turning its first corner, they followed it onto a narrow footpath, which climbed uphill.
Jesus followed them onto the main road. He knew that they were parked at Town Square - he had seen their car on the way back to the club: who else could possibly have driven a custom-made sports car into Treblinka? Only a Krupnik. As far as Jesus knew, this was the only Krupnik in town that night. If his car was parked at Town Square, Jesus could beat them to it. At the fork in the road (where the Town Office Building was), Jesus veered left, onto Church Road, which led directly to the Church of Sts. Peter and Paul - whereas they had turned right, continuing along the main road which led directly to Town Square. Jesus started running. He ran all along Church Road, uphill, turning right onto Linden Flower Road in front of the brick church's red walls and black-shuttered windows, which were closed. He sprinted all the way to the main road. When he got there, he wasn't sure if he were late or on time; he wasn't about to check around the corner. He put his back against the wall.
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.
So I went inside, quickly wending my way through the crowded salon. I went upstairs to the main bedroom. I approached Albert's closet - but, before I got there, I was distracted. Something pulled me towards Indiana's corner. Gowns were draping her screen. Articles of clothing were strewn about, undergarments littering the floor. I approached her infamous mirror. I looked at myself. I saw the door to Albert's closet.
– Title 3, Regarding a Dream, Chapter 3, The Third Day, Part 2, Prayer & The Reformation, Section 15, Running Away, Paragraph 2
Albert had called me the previous day, asking if it were 'alright' if he moved in tomorrow. I repeated my consent, and, with gratitude, he made one more request: he asked if I could drive him. I, of course, agreed, thinking nothing more of it, and, the next day, getting off at Holland Park Station, I crossed the perilous avenue, making my way around the corner and down the street. Olympia was kind enough to open the door for me.
– Title 3, Regarding a Dream, Chapter 4, The Fourth Day, Part 2, The Assembly & Government Reform, Section 6, Being Obedient, Paragraph 6
Nike walked as fast as he could to his car. Driving down the Rue du Colisée and the Rue de Penthièvre, he crossed the Boulevard Malesherbes, and, continuing down the Rue des Mathurins, he drove around the Opera house. At the northeast corner, he took the Rue La Fayette, but he drove too far: the Rue du Faubourg Poissonnière was going south, so Nike had to turn around at Saint Vincent de Paul, taking Rue D'Abbeville onto the Rue Condorcet before turning northward.
But these were more familiar garments: I recognized one of Macy's old T-shirts, one of my favorites, very colorful but tasteful, very tasteful. I had not seen him wear it in years, so many long years, and I imagined a younger Macy wearing it once again. I smiled, and looking around the room, the clutter no longer seemed like clutter. It was Macy: the evidence of his existence. It was his clothing in the bag, his old papers stacked in piles around the room. They were his books, his quarters, his dimes and nickels that were scattered across the desk. It was his pile of pennies that lay separate. It was his bed in the corner, his sheets that were ruffled, his comforter, his blankets falling off the edge.
We were standing in a nice corner. The walls around us were high and windowless. Concrete was crumbling and cracking itself. There was a lot of rusted metal. The ground was littered. "You know what I like about big cities? I like these kinds of places: the buttholes and the bellybuttons." There was even some neglected shrubbery around us. It was bordering the crumbling concrete steps upon which Luka was seated. I placed my foot beside his on the lowest one. I started balancing my leg. I thought of the stairs outside our old apartment. I thought of the opium dealer - as a character from a New Comedy, with Luka, the poor yeoman; Anicetus, the corrupted son of an equis; and me, Andreas: the lowly manservant, the torch-bearing slave.
– Title 3, Regarding a Dream, Chapter 2, The Second Day, Part 1, Labor & Economic Reform, Section 14, Referencing the Past, Paragraph 16
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.
A woman who started swimming crawl must have noticed something in the corner of her eye. She stopped and stared at Patsy's naked body. He waved and smiled. The woman screamed. Instead of pointing, she began splashing hysterically. The lifeguard dove into the water. Everybody stared. "I'm over here," cried Patsy.
Something darted. I turned my head. I jumped. I breathed a sigh of relief. It was the road, bathed in headlights. Somebody was driving. There was a passenger. I stretched my arms. I gripped the corners of the bucket seats. I tried to pull myself. I barely moved. My arms were powerless. I sat back.
Shephard spotted Pepsi in the opposite corner of the courtyard. She was on top of the wall. "How did she get there?" thought Shephard. There was a rock in her hand. She was going to try to throw it at the guard closest to her.
Tae turned the bend. Sandbars glimmered in the distance. They were at the corner of yet another bend. Tae ran. He could hear the sound of waves. He approached the sandbars. He could see something stuck against one of them. He neared it. He crouched. It was laundry. Tae looked.
"What am I going to do?" thought Shephard. He looked around. There was a man tanking a sedan. He was too close to the humvee-there was no time to find keys. A guy in a truck-too far away-too ready to drive off. A car pulled in-behind him, a young man on a motorcycle. Shephard recognized him. It was the man from the accident.
Shephard took another look around the corner. Clark was coming out of the station. A man in a tight uniform was next to him. He was escorting Clark to the humvee.
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: It was no big deal. It was some stupid kid with a knife.
FLETCHER: Was it sharp?
LUKE: She didn't have a chance to taste it.
FLETCHER: What did it look like?
ALICE: It was just a regular jackknife. It wasn't very big.
FLETCHER: What did he get away with?
ALICE: My purse.
LUKE: With everything in it.
ALICE: It was so stupid. The cops could've picked him up around the corner if they had just bothered to look. They were such pigs.
FLETCHER: Don't tell that to old Grey Goose! Australian cops guilty of misprision? He would go on a rampage.
A story book full of short fiction stories. An interesting bedtime mystery. A fairy tale. Science fiction romance. Adult life. Uninspiring gay fiction. Horror.
Obama took it the hardest. Any sound, any silent white face staring at him made him run around the corner. He never stopped talking about leaving. He wanted to go to France. Never mind that he didn't speak a word of French. He was obsessed with the idea of being in Paris. As far as I know he's there now. He just disappeared one day. If Barack knew something he never told me.
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.
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.
I had to go. The attack on Barack was the last straw. The news claimed all the attacks were coming from one bad boxing club. It couldn't have been true. I was seeing skinheads on every street corner. I begged my friends at the university to help. I just wanted to leave the city. By the end of the week I was staying at a friend's dacha. In the middle of winter. With no heat. I had to borrow a small furnace and forage for wood on my own. I was happy. I was safe.
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 corner 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 "corner." I hope I can get it done sometime soon. -Michal
If a 45-year-old businesswoman and hard working mother of three kids is going to pose nude for a calendar, it's gonna have to be a good one. Margo didn't start a coffee shop called the Vagina Cafe to win her favors from the establishment. Even as she dishes out prizes to the 20 women who placed last in the twentienth anniversary run of her town's biggest road race, her business, unlike everyone else, doesn't get mentioned. She was an official sponsor for Christ's sake! But the announcer just couldn't swallow his patriarchy and get the words "Vagina Cafe" out of his mouth. That's not something a proper gentleman would say in front of a crowd of humble God-fearing "ladies" who cherish their modesty! And a Body Acceptance Calendar is certainly not what a humble God-fearing book-seller like a Barnes and Noble would put on their shelves! So how do I expect to sell this in the mainstream? Maybe if you download the free versions a thousand billion times it might help. Start downloading.
Help me keep the "Corner" page...
If you love women and art...
Michal is importing art from Poland...is he mental?
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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