Michal is meditating on the idea of enhancing his gallant Fiction Corpus with a morality play about adult fan fiction; cites fatigue
Posted:
I regard highly the viability of implementing English as a worldwide language. I don't accept the blah blah blah strategy by which the English language is taught.
Fortifying a person's skills with a language isn't like bringing about a hotter furnace. A language - a common language - is not just an instrument that you can teach yourself to wield with greater amounts of precision. A spoken tongue can not be dissected from the prevailing culture of a clan 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 man to recite English is to rob him of its cultural context. A proper teacher has to create a strategy for introducing it; the discerning pupil goes out to seek it.
A dictionary can be an influential tool. A decent dictionary will describe a language on the basis of a specific corpus, a set of written language of varying scope and consistency. This corpus can contain everything from a book about literature to a bunch of fiction characters. I lost many a sleepless night forging my "gallant" Fiction Corpus to form a unique class 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 drawn up a million words and I have divided them, reframing them - not simply to teach English vocabulary but to be an advocate for 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...
When I arrived in Europe on the 20th of June, 2011, I had no plan and certainly no idea that by the end of the week I would be practicing photography with a woman I had never met, a naturist who had never before allowed herself to be photographed nude. It was the first of a whole series of firsts for the both of us.
I had come to Europe to document people practicing naturism. Preliminary arrangements had been made to meet with an Egyptian nudist visiting the Continent and there was some kind of Pan-European gathering scheduled to take place in Croatia. I had arranged for an assistant to come along with me to help with anything I needed, but when her passport was stolen the night before we were supposed to leave, my plans went awry. I decided on something less ambitious. I would visit a naturist sauna in the city of Bielsko-Biala, Poland which I had just found on the internet. When I got there, I met Margo.
Being from America, all I had to do in Europe was turn on the radio to hear an American song. All I had to do was walk into a movie theater to see an American movie. To be understood all I had to do was speak English. Being from Poland, she couldn't stand listening to the radio for all the political nonsense being bandied about. She didn't like watching American movies because she claimed they all ended the same way. She didn't want to speak English with me because she not only wanted to say things correctly but she wanted to say them her way and nobody had ever succeeded in teaching her how. I desperately wanted to understand. She wanted to be understood.
Despite the cops in Vienna. Despite the rain in Veržej. Despite getting lost in Italy. Despite parting at Soest. Despite that night in Amsterdam. Despite our fight in Lisieux. Despite the storm in the Bois de la Roche. Despite that terrible morning outside Collonges. Despite the long road to Pielenhofen, we came back safe and sound and most importantly we were happy. We had started to learn how to listen. We had left the devils of the road behind and the devils ahead seemed just a little bit smaller. We had started to open up.
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 Home
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 home in some kind of way.
If you want to communicate an idea using the word home, 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 home is located in the fabric of a language, the better you will be at exploiting its cultural power.
Pronunciation of Home
I have yet to publish a pronunciation for the word home.
Video of me pronouncing "home."
Definition of Home
I have yet to publish the definition of home.
I'm sure it won't take too long.
Common use of home in illustrative example sentences
I have yet to come up with a fifth sentence using the word home.
Audio of me saying the sentence:
I have yet to come up with a sixth sentence using the word home.
Audio of me saying the sentence:
I have yet to come up with a seventh sentence using the word home.
Audio of me saying the sentence:
Usage of Home 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 home.
That doesn't mean it's not high on my list.
Table of Frequency for the Word "Home."
This table lists in descending order the total number of times that the word homeand 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 home, 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 #5719
lowes thinks the drone is homemade. he thinks its a good thing. a sign of another militia. the question is whose side are they on.
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.
"I haven't lost my ticket," said Jesus. "It's at home on the table; it's not going to get here on time."
Jesus would've accepted more recruits, as many as applied, but he was afraid: not trusting anyone whose life he hadn't saved, Jesus subjected prospective Confederates to a rigorous test, which included securing a building completely on one's own. Candidates had no idea whether the building had already been cleared - they invariably had been, but even then: who knew what hid within their walls? Jesus even subjected members of his own family to the test. Sapper peed his pants while probing Town Hall. Jesus had unleashed a host of cats for the very purpose of scaring him. If not for that, Jesus would've sent him home; considering his own contribution to Sapper's mess, Jesus decided to take pity. His cousin was avenged, however, when Jesus made him his personal chef. That was a bad move.
On top of all that, the single largest privately-held stake in Poland's largest petroleum dealer was owned by Krupnik Holding, SA. The single largest shareholder in Krupnik Holding, SA was, of course, Leonard Cohen-Krupnik, the richest man in Poland and father of Sacha Cohen-Krupnik, his eldest son, who was engaged to be married to Zoe Guderian, only child (by his second wife [his first wife being divorced and presumed dead]) of the richest man on the planet, Hitler Panzer-Tank the Third, who was organizing a private military expedition to Mars, his home, which he hadn't seen since before the Martian Revolution, in which most of his family was presumed to have been killed. It was all that complicated.
How my sister did such a wonderful thing, I shall never know: she took your father to his bed. When he was told in what miserable straits he, an older boy - practically a man - had been found by such a beautiful, little girl, he was ashamed. He was grateful. Soon, he was angry with his terrible uncle. He cursed him for leading him away from home and straight into the poisoned watering holes of the damned. He cursed him for leaving him at the bottom of three flights of stairs. He cursed him for making a beautiful, little girl see him intoxicated. Too much vodka turned your father into a rectified spirit! He never drank with his uncle again.
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.
It was a long time before she embraced me, before she was able to say a few words through her sputtering. But they were unintelligible. I asked her if I should take her home, and I had to wait a long time for her to say yes. And then I waited while she calmed herself. She started apologizing. I said it was all right. She started really apologizing. I told her to stop.
Having brought home the writing again, I stayed up past midnight finishing. I don't know how long I tossed and turned after I went to bed. My body was tired, but my mind was awake: paranoiacally so - even though my body had been resting the entire day, while my mind was tirelessly working.
I was too exhausted to be angry; but Barbara's relief was short-lived: pretty soon she was completely unhinged, bawling like a child with a broken home. I told her she had gotten more money than anyone else, but this only made her cry more. She was very sorry that she had dragged me down all the way from Jersey just for this to happen.
Among these photographs, there were a lot of small decorative objects: homemade objets d'art - like: cotton-ball snowmen with carefully glued faces. There was pottery with fingerprints. There were men made out of alphabet blocks, with felt strips for legs and arms and big felt hats on top of wooden spherical heads. Their faces were simply painted; they had bells for hands and feet. I picked one up and it jingled for me. I really liked it. I smiled. It had the letter 'M' on its belly. I put it back on the shelf, next to the letter 'I' man and the letter 'K,' both of whom were sitting in the shade of a tall communion candle. "These must be Olympia's," I thought, as I carefully closed the glass door.
– Title 3, Regarding a Dream, Chapter 1, The First Day, Part 1, Victory & Calendar Reform, Section 6, The Drawing Room, Paragraph 5
Knowing that Indiana would ask: why the filthy face? I was hoping I could think of some funny story to cheer her up. But when she did ask me, there was no funny story. Instead, I felt foolish. I told her I was closing the fireplace: someone had forgotten to close the flue, and: "I sneezed." She told me to go wash my face. She was ready to insist, but we were already standing by the open door. We left, and that's how we drove home: one black face, one red face. There was very little conversation. We entered the car in silence and that's how it remained. I was pretty sure an explanation was coming at some point, so I wasn't going to fish for it. But I was hoping it would come in the car - because that way, one can always concentrate on the road. I have very little patience for grief, whether it be warranted or not.
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.
The door opened. Nike saw Barbara jump out. He swore to himself. He crawled after her. He jogged behind her through the thick swarm of flesh. He yelled, "What's going on? I haven't paid you."
Barbara glanced over her shoulder. She cried, "I don't need it."
Dorothea cocked her head. Her mouth curved into a slight smile. She said, "I hear your girlfriend cares passionately for horses. Why don't we make a bet? If Clutch Bag wins the Belmont Stakes, you can marry whomever you please." The smile turned sinister.
Hotan was full of Uyghur. They kept their distance. Shephard shook his head. "It seems the People's Armed Police got here before us." Clark couldn't find a single person on his list. "Don't worry," said Shephard. He slapped Clark on the back. "We'll get them on the way home."
"I understand. A team will be sent to fix the airlock. Don't let them know you're here." Uzumaki moved to put on his helmet. He stopped himself. "One more thing, Ms. Read. There's somebody back home who's worried about you. What should I tell her?"
Tatum smiled. "Tell her I'm fine." The man nodded. He put on his helmet. He dragged Harris's body to the jump-ship.
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 enters.)
MS. JACKSON: Grey Goose!
GREY GOOSE: Speak of the devil.
MS. JACKSON: Up to your old threats again, are you?
GREY GOOSE: Not at all.
MS. JACKSON: Get out.
GREY GOOSE: Stop trying to run me out of my own home.
MS. JACKSON: This is a place of business, mind you, of which you have none.
GREY GOOSE: As it happens, I do.
MS. JACKSON: What's that? Threatening arson?
– ACT I, lines 252-260
GREY GOOSE: That's not what I mean.
MS. JACKSON: You devil!
GREY GOOSE: Ms. Jackson! Did you confide in the Aussie police - God preserve their infernal souls - your suspicions that I might be capable of murder?
MS. JACKSON: I will not answer you.
GREY GOOSE: Bitch!
MS. JACKSON: How dare you speak to me in such a filthy way?
GREY GOOSE: I will speak to you like that for as long as you deserve it.
MS. JACKSON: How have I merited this barbaric intrusion into my home and this battering of my senses? I am a scorned woman.
GREY GOOSE: Don't start playing the martyr.
MS. JACKSON: You seem to think I'm afraid of telling you the truth. I'm not.
– ACT I, lines 291-300
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.
ALICE: Did you?
– ACT I, lines 642-651
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
(KOKOMO exits.)
GREY GOOSE: Excellent! The day of reckoning has come at last. For too long now, the crimes of my distant past have tarried and o'er me their shadows cast. Restitution's been made, Heavenly King! Grant that my wife be open to forgive a reformed man, who only wants to live in his own home - not like a fugitive on an island full of gossiping cows, who whisper lies, make innuendo, roll their eyes and giggle nonsense, and yet dole out their judgments as if they were a whole judge and jury. Let them bear witness that no woman will run me out of my own home - even if I have to burn it down!
A story book full of short fiction stories. An interesting bedtime mystery. A fairy tale. Science fiction romance. Adult life. Uninspiring gay fiction. Horror.
Living with Barack wouldn't have made any difference. He wasn't attacked at home like Khalifa. He was attacked by ten men in the middle of the street. In the middle of the day. People standing all around. If I had moved in with him it could've been me in that tunnel to the station. We could both be twitching for the rest of our lives. He told me when he saw me he considers it lucky I was not there.
Proctor tried to reach Elizabeth. She wasn't picking up. Neither was her sister. He kept trying. He walked all the way home. He went straight to the parlor where he kept his gun. He opened the drawer. It was empty. He heard the hammer cocking back. It was next to his head.
Some people think I'm a smarty-pants. It's not true. I'm the biggest idiot of all. I immigrated to America. I came willingly. I don't regret it. As bad as things are in this country they're even worse where I was born. A lot of Americans don't realize that. Whenever I hear snobs complaining about how things are I tell them to relax. Take a trip to Woodstock. By the time you get home you'll be grateful.
Grendel went home. The ogre saw her in her training bra and spit his beer onto the carpet. He called for Grendel's mother. When Grendel's mother saw what Grendel was wearing she got angry. She asked Grendel where she got it. Why she was wearing it. Grendel told her that her breasts hurt.
Grendel's mother embraced her daughter. She kissed her all over and told her she was sorry. She said from now on she would take better care of her daughter.
"Home-schooled. I know the Treaty of Szatmar as an example of how socialist revolution cannot depend upon the landed class. My father was a communist."
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 home 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 "home." 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.
Help maintain the "Home" page...
If you love women and art...
Michal is importing art...is he bonkers?
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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