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Fairleigh-Dickinson

Independent University in New Jersey

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Margo behind a tree

Bare Bottom, a cultural index

Understanding the world from all angles...

Michal enjoys giving away HD calendar wallpaper with a naked woman on it - is he... you know... ?The Calendars...

As Margo says, when you get old is up to you. Your age shouldn't be determining your value. But shouldn't our values be determining our age? Shouldn't we be measuring time in a way that reflects our greatest and most noble principles? Do we want a calendar that is wrinkly and dry, sanitized of human emotion? Or would we rather have a calendar that counts the human heart as part of its parade of rising and setting suns?Pointer

When I say the word art, a lot of people probably think of paintings and sculptures. These are common art forms, but they're not the most basic. One of the most basic forms of art is the calendar.

Consider the way we count years. Among ancient civilizations it was customary to count years according to the length of a monarch's reign. After the founding of the Roman Republic, the Romans distinguished themselves by dating the start of their calendar to that seminal political event.

Politically, the Gregorian calendar takes us a step back by dating the start of our civil calendar to the supposed birth of the man many Christians believe to be the Son of God and, as part of the Trinity, the heir to the Kingdom of Heaven. Some people foolishly disguise this fact by calling Christ's reign the Common Era, which makes no scientific sense. It's also absurd to count down the years before the Common Era, as if the people of that Era were backwards.

I choose to use a calendar that honors the life of Jesus without fetishizing him as Christ the King. If the Son of Man is of the same essence as the Godhead, then it follows that God is a Humanist and would favor a calendar that focuses on the accomplishments of man. I choose to count the generations of men that have contributed to history, in eras lasting thirty generations each, anchored in the year of the founding of the Roman Republic, with every generation consisting of thirty-three years - not just because Jesus traditionally lived to be thirty-three, but because the thirty-three year cycle is the most accurate way of keeping a 365-day calendar in line with the seasons.

You may not be prepared to adopt a different calendar as long as everybody around you is still using the one Pope Gregory reformed back in the 16th century. That's okay.

I'm offering you free calendar wallpaper so you can think about how important the calendar is as an art-form, not just as a way of counting the days but as a way of organizing our culture and giving our society a direction.

If you think society is heading in the wrong direction and needs a little help, you can try to celebrate Love Your Neighbor Day as I have done - by placing it between Saturday and Sunday - and seeing how you feel. You might feel power and freedom from having broken the cycle of Monday to Friday, Saturday, Sunday. I did. It empowered me and gave me a sense of peace that continues to fuel me to this day. Maybe it can fuel you too.

The HD Body Acceptance Monthly Poster Calendar, A.D. 2013Pointer

high-definition digital wallpaper featuring the intelligent and graceful Margo Rijnvis

Margo and I hope that this calendar will brighten your day and lift your spirits high every time you visit your desktop.

Download this monthly poster calendar for October 2013 with a black background

A monthly poster calendar for October 2013 with a black background

Help End Harassment With ArtOne of Margo's pictures from our trip across Europe.

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...Pointer

By the end of my first week in Europe in 2011, I had bought a car and out of the blue had met the woman who would join me on a 6,000 mile trek across the European continent, sharing the beat-up car that I had bought and the one small tent from Walmart that I had brought along with me on my flight.

As an artist inspired by a young woman's struggle with self-esteem and bulimia, body acceptance had always featured prominently in my aesthetic. Having recently discovered naturism and its mantra of body acceptance in the United States, I was eager to explore the style and philosophy of naturist clubs and the beauty of naturist campsites in Europe. By a trick of fate, I found myself first in Bielsko-Biała, Poland. Margo's home.

Though I was born in Europe, I had been brought up from a young age in America, living in states as diverse as Nebraska, Ohio and Connecticut. I was taught American values and saw reality from an American perspective. She was born and raised in a village in Poland. She went to work in the nearest town. The nearest city seemed like the center of the world. The American perspective was not something she was ever planning to see.

I've never been married. I've never been divorced. I've never had kids. I've never lost my kids. That doesn't mean I can't try to understand somebody who has. By listening to Margo during our trip across Europe I started to consider her needs as if they were my own. I may not have been in a position to satisfy all of those needs, but I was able to shut up and put my own needs aside if I had to for at least 6,000 miles. We all need to be listened to and it is the one need that we all have a duty to satisfy. When somebody prays to another human, as a human you have a duty to listen. Humanity needs to start teaching itself that skill.

One of Margo's pictures from our trip across Europe.

6,000 miles across Europe with a complete stranger

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Day -13
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THE DISAPPEARING WOMAN, THE DISAPPEARING MAN...Pointer

a collection of modern art prints and posters

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:
Bare Bottom

Some people need a reason to be looking at a bare bottom. They might be trying to arouse themselves sexually or they might be preparing to administer corporal punishment.

As a nudist, I prefer being naked over being clothed as a general rule. That means I don't need a reason to be naked. I need a reason to be clothed.

As a naturist, I don't need a reason to be looking at a bare bottom. I'm comfortable being surrounded by bare bottoms as a general rule.

I don't fetishize bare bottoms. I think they're useful artifacts. Without bottoms our legs wouldn't work. They attach our legs to the rest of our body and covering them up with fabric doesn't improve that function.

Pronunciation of Bare BottomMargo on a trampoline

I have yet to publish a pronunciation for the words "bare bottom."

Video of me pronouncing "bare bottom."

Definition of Bare BottomMargo on a trampoline

A bare bottom is something only kids can get away with. Even then it causes certain people anxiety, unless you're a nudist, a swinger or you're from Holland.

An index for bare bottomMargo on a trampoline

  • I have yet to index the section Bare Bottom

     

Samples of Fiction from Michal's CorpusMargo on a trampoline

An image of young Michal sitting on a potty in front of a typewriter

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.

Bare Bottom ImprintBack to Samples of Fiction: Table of Contents

Samples of Fiction from Death to McDonalds

An aerial view of Dodger Stadium in the foreground, with an imaginary partially submerged Los Angeles behind

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 #5100

i have fuel. its in the tank. its sitting at the bottom. thats why the engine was sputtering. i just need to raise the level.

Sprint "Iphone" Case

8 November, 5:57 AM

Frame #1088

im in kim kris's room. her new bottom girl put me here. im supposed to wait. like some kind of regular customer with a patient fetish.

Chase Credit

7 August, 12:37 PM

Frame #2698

the deputies the sheriff sent to afton are dead. they were found slaughtered in their car at the bottom of basin road. their guns are gone.

Chase Credit

26 August, 12:18 AM

Frame #1348

im at the bottom of the slide. i almost fell into the pool. i didnt know it was full of water. the moons gone. its pitch black out here.

JC Penney

10 August, 10:31 PM

Frame #417

its not my fault kortney has a sense for the bottom line. girls these days are so ignorant. so selfish and judgmental. like i was.

Kim "Kris" Kardashian

29 July, 10:30 PM

Bare Bottom ImprintBack to Samples of Fiction: Table of Contents

Samples of Fiction from The Gospel of Jesus H.

A picture of the planet Mars

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.

Clouds brought fire to man. That cold breath of wet air that separates the positive away from the negative by lifting the positive up into the higher regions and leaving the rest alone, clumped together and shivering, decided to leave at the very bottom of the clouds a small blanketlike layer of the positive, which, for a while, protected Earth from the negative's wrath, but which was quickly devoured by that great mass and, giving way, permitted a fiery discharge of negative currents to come crashing down toward the Earth, summoning up, by methods I fail to understand, an opposing discharge from the point that otherwise would have been struck, which, as I've been told, met the fiery discharge approximately fifty meters above the ground and caused a great luminosity to flash and propagate itself back toward the clouds, reaching speeds near one-tenth the speed of light and temperatures around thirty-thousand Kelvin which heated the air and sent a massive shock wave expanding at supersonic speeds in either direction for about a meter before decaying into a sound wave, a massive clap, that rang in the ears of the first upright man to hear it, who saw the Light, who knew it to be God, or at least someone or something who was very angry - at him, perhaps, which made his whole hairy body stand on end and which scared the living bejesus out of him.

Verse 1 from the chapter called Security

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.

Verse 378 from the chapter called Adolescence

"Now," he told me once, when he came to visit me on leave, "I'm lucky if they let me fall asleep before dawn. They make us hold stools all night long, when we're running, when we're doing calisthenics, when we go to the bathroom - then, after about five hours of holding stools, we stand in a row and hold them out in front of us. We have to hold them by gripping the bottom of one leg. Then they come with bottles of water, not to let us drink - God forbid they should let us drink. They put the bottles onto our stools - if we spill them, they kick us in the gut. Then, we get to kick them back - if we don't, they kick us again. It's very weird."

"Very sadistic," I said.

Verses 20-21 from the chapter called Arms

So Jesus gave him his gun. He gave him his gun. He immediately regretted it. The doorman let him in. He was patted down. The doorman closed the door behind him. There was darkness. Lighting a lamp, he said, "Go downstairs and turn right." So Jesus took the lamp and went downstairs. At the bottom, he turned right. There was a large room. People were in it. Most of them were bound and gagged. The only two people who weren't bound and gagged were holding guns. One of them said, "What's going on?"

Verse 269 from the chapter called Arms

With quickened pace, I went south by southwest. I stumbled onto a beautiful thing: a boletus with a brown cap, brown and white striations along its entire length, a fairly long stem with a short and stubby chunk at the bottom. It was tender - seemingly tough but delicate, seemingly rough but soft. Nicknamed 'Cossack,' like the free men who dwelt in the East, like the peasants who escaped from serfdom, she was endangered: she was covered by a hideous fly agaric. The beast had grown up right next to her, casting his cold, inescapable shadow on top of that lonely Cossack with his bright red-orange poisonous cap. I went to take her away, but I was careless: I ripped her cap. Lifting her up, I carefully cleaned her foot. Putting her into my bag, I let the fly agaric live. Blessed was he for sheltering my Cossack. Looking up, in the distance, I saw the wretched beast's accursed father: the largest fly agaric I had ever seen. He was seated on a hill, enormous and disgustingly proud. I threw a rock and crushed it.

Verse 15 from the chapter called Bohemia

Bare Bottom ImprintBack to Samples of Fiction: Table of Contents

Samples of Fiction from Sex for Children

A drawing of a man between a woman's legs in front of another man in a hospital bed

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.

One of its branches joined the main river above Whitehall, and a lower branch below the Houses of Parliament, thus creating the island of Westminster. Now back in the day, the Tyburn supplied London with drinking water, which was transported to the city by means of a most romantically natural system: a series of conduits made of elm trees. Now apparently, the English elm, if not as stately as our native American, is at least as durable under water - however, I did notice a very small but definite split in the bottom of our sculling boat; you shall have to investigate upon your return. But while you are in London, consider the fate of the Tyburn: it has disappeared; but: it still exists.

– Title 2, Regarding the Romaniac, Part 1, Section 10, Using Metaphor, Paragraph 1, Clauses 4-8

I looked back at Barbara just in time to see her fallen face. Somebody yelled out sixty and somehow she was able to squeeze out a painful smile across her lovely visage. But her muscles were not able to hold it long: the beggar offered an astounding eighty dollars, and she, dropping the corners of her wretched smile, had to fix the most pathetic face I have ever seen: like a mask of death sprinkled with glitter, painted with bright and happy colors that, aesthetically speaking, did not reconcile her now pale skin, or the uneven lines of her twisted lip, or relieve the tension of her naked brow in that beautiful but wretched face of slowly sinking features, relaxing themselves as if they knew the touch of death, and welcomed fate, even though the mouth was still fixed in horror, quietly extending the poetic moment with its cautious gaping, barely unfurling its bottom lip, as if still unsure of its fate in that final moment: a quiet appeal for justice that did not fall on blinded eyes, even though mine were temporarily imprisoned by her beauty in that smoky dungeon.

– Title 2, Regarding the Romaniac, Part 1, Section 7, Dating a Woman with Dogs, Paragraph 7

Apart from our peevish little cousin, there was no hint of frustration on that particular summer day. My curiosity was soon overwhelmed by the sight of Indiana, who alone emerged from around the house. From the bottom of that small hill, and perhaps owing to our age, she seemed, and continues to seem in my memory, as being very tall - so tall, in fact, that in my image of our first introduction, I see myself looking up to her face, trying to see her eyes from under her dark glasses while she conversed with our mother and our aunt. I was standing in a hole, perhaps.

– Title 2, Regarding the Romaniac, Part 1, Section 1, Genital Pain as a Result of Physical Trauma, Paragraph 3

And I have come here not only to beg for your forgiveness, but to ask you, from the very bottom of my heart, to shine upon me just a fraction of your devotion, which you so willingly bestow upon Him, a man I have never known, and of whom I am sincerely and most deeply envious.

– Title 3, Regarding a Dream, Chapter 6, The Sixth Day, Part 1, Children & Education Reform, Section 7, Becoming Obedient, Paragraph 8, Clauses 6-7

Her left hand, the one that held Albert, the one that she had placed on top of her right, she now had on her thigh, almost next to mine, but farther down. She had lifted her bottom hand, letting her top hand slide down. Its thumb was now across my fingers. And she was now able to lift her other hand, the right one; pressing the fingers of that hand onto her left, she was able to lift the palm resting on my hand, letting it rub - just a little bit. And when her right palm was finished, her thumb, on her left hand: it was rubbing - just a little bit, imperceptibly - but for me: certainly, softly, surely. I let her keep rubbing for a long time. Then, I realized: I had to answer. So, when she lifted her palm, I lifted mine; we began rubbing simultaneously: she my hand, my hand her thigh. Then, people were applauding.

– Title 3, Regarding a Dream, Chapter 1, The First Day, Part 1, Victory & Calendar Reform, Section 13, Apprehension, Paragraph 6

Bare Bottom ImprintBack to Samples of Fiction: Table of Contents

Samples of Fiction from Tsiga Tsiga Tsiga

Bullets whizzing by a statue of Nikola Tesla

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.

"Your father doesn't have that kind of money," said Shephard. "He's dead set on having me for a son-in-law." Pepsi couldn't believe what was happening. Shephard asked, "Were you going to post us on the web?" Pepsi could barely bring herself to shrug.

"I'm not a kidnapper," she said. "They just wanted me to cover the eye."

– from “Two Dudes and a Chinese Desert,” a friendship story featuring a guy with an easy smile

The secretary approached the file cabinet in front of the woman. She used the heel of her shoe to open the bottom drawer. Like a child who sees change upon the counter, she hesitated. She would have to be quick. She put her heel on the floor. She leaned forward. She barely bent her legs.

The corduroy fabric bulged around her-it was right in front of the woman's face. A short ruffle was all that stood in the way of buried treasure.

– from “Dirty Manga People Are Disgusting,” a spooky story featuring the dark side

Tae looked to the right. A meadow stretched for about half a mile. It thinned into desert. Mountains rose in the distance. In front of the ship, gentle hills dominated the landscape. To the left, a river ran next to a thick forest. Beyond that were more mountains. Tae walked to the bank. The man followed.

Their bare feet sank into the soft ground. The man said, "This river runs parallel to the equator."

– from “How Tae & Bo Took Over the World and Kung & Fu Didn't,” an apocryphal bible story featuring a criminal settlement

Perhaps flashing a badge in the midday sun blinded him, as Juanita later testified; perhaps he was frightened by Patsy's bare chest, as Patsy himself claimed. Regardless, he ran over the dunes, through the bush, across the main road, and right past the sign that said, "From this point on, you may encounter nude sunbathers."

Patsy, who had led the chase, stopped to catch his breath. Juanita was close behind. "God," he gasped, turning around, "I love it when you run."

– from “A Cop Named Patsy,” a funny story featuring a cop on a nude beach

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.

– from “Paris Is For Rapists, Too,” a ghost story featuring the beautiful people of France

Bare Bottom ImprintBack to Samples of Fiction: Table of Contents

Samples of Fiction from Sorry Ms. Jackson

Chiseled letters from an ancient stone tablet hanging on a wall

A real play. With drama in it. Talk fast. It takes two hours. Set in a guest house. In a small community. After a murder. Lots of suspicion. The characters learn to listen to each other. It's funny.

(GREY GOOSE and LUKE exit.)

MS. JACKSON: Barbarians.

ALICE: Some honeymoon: Luke spends more time with your husband than he does with me.

MS. JACKSON: He can have him. I do feel sorry for you, Alice.

ALICE: I don't mind. He makes up for it with other, more important qualities of manliness.

LESBIAN: Is he large?

ALICE: Yes.

MS. JACKSON: How large?

ALICE: Massive. I can barely take it.

LESBIAN: I don't know if I would like that.

– ACT I, lines 385-393

GREY GOOSE: No. You're a good kid. I know that. I only wish I could've been a better father.

FLETCHER: You were good enough.

GREY GOOSE: I wasn't.

FLETCHER: You only hit me - what? Once? I deserved it.

GREY GOOSE: I made it count.

FLETCHER: I barely felt it.

GREY GOOSE: Come on.

FLETCHER: It's better than what you had. I'm grateful.

GREY GOOSE: I'm going to miss this place.

FLETCHER: You're not out yet.

– ACT I, lines 1277-1286

MS. JACKSON: You must be falling asleep after such a long day.

FLETCHER: Mother.

LESBIAN: I can barely keep my eyes open.

FLETCHER: Excuse me.

MS. JACKSON: That's a problem.

LESBIAN: Why?

MS. JACKSON: The laundry's not done. I'll have to take fresh sheets from the sofa bed.

LESBIAN: Don't bother. I'll sleep in here for now.

MS. JACKSON: Are you sure?

LESBIAN: It'll only be for a nap.

– ACT II, lines 262-271

(ALICE exits.)

GREY GOOSE: Alone at last.

KOKOMO: You've done your business: now leave.

GREY GOOSE: There's more. I need your help.

KOKOMO: Again?

GREY GOOSE: Yes.

KOKOMO: I'm not your little plaything.

GREY GOOSE: Do you want to be thrown out? I didn't think so. Come with me to the kitchen. I need those tender little hands.

KOKOMO: This is the last time, Grey Goose. You've made me sore from all your stupid amusements. I can barely even walk or lift a finger. I'm totally spent.

GREY GOOSE: Don't pretend you don't like it.

– ACT I, lines 852-860

Bare Bottom ImprintBack to Samples of Fiction: Table of Contents

Samples of Fiction from Miscellaneous Dingbats

The title of the book at the end of a string of miscellaneous dingbats

A story book full of short fiction stories. An interesting bedtime mystery. A fairy tale. Science fiction romance. Adult life. Uninspiring gay fiction. Horror.

Steve, Peter and I wandered around for a while. We spotted Mary walking down the sidewalk. We didn't stop to say hello. We went to a bar. There was barely anyone there. A guy on the patio was seated with his dog. Steve was a dog owner. It gave him a reason to chat. I focused on the bar girl but not to my benefit.

– from “Woodstock,” a life story based on what really happened, namely to the author

"I saw the two of them down by the court," said the young woman. She was talking about Matt and Parker. She whispered, "I think they're doing it." Jessica puckered her mouth in excitement. She was grateful to be off the grindstone. Her beer-fueled dalliance with the old man fueled giggles and shakes of the head for days. She was the youngest counselor. Barely eighteen.

I considered mentioning Matt's condoms. I thought better of it.

– from “A Magnum Condom,” a bedtime story to teach children about the real world that may or may not work

I killed a cat. It was an accident. I was trying to cut its fur. I wanted to show Kelly the ugliness of a shaved pussy. I don't deserve two years of prison for it. Cruelty to animals is nothing next to how humans treat each other. They put me in the same prison I used to guard. At the very least I know which of these bitches aren't shaved. Those are the ones I can fuck. Even when I was a kid I couldn't stand a bare floor. All the blood stains and grime and guts on the linoleum in the kitchen. It was disgusting. It always curled up at the edges. Like Kelly's toes. As soon as I get out of here I'll find that girl. I'll get her the biggest razor I can find.

– from “Two Years,” an adult fiction story about a lady at a women's prison

Proctor backed out of the bathroom. He looked at the window. There was a fire escape outside. It went up to the loft. Proctor went to look outside. He realized the window was unlocked. He locked it. He shut the curtain. He walked to the front door. He looked outside. The hallway was empty. Proctor tiptoed out. He tried to shut the door as quietly as he could. It wouldn't shut all the way. The frame was broken. Proctor left it. He started soft-shoeing his way down the hall. He could barely swallow his spit. There was a rock in his throat. The stairs seemed like they were getting farther and farther. He finally reached them. The stairwell was empty. He walked down the stairs. The lobby was empty. Proctor took a deep breath. He went outside. He waved to the policeman in the patrol car. He got to his own car. He drove off.

– from “We Need To Talk,” a mystery story featuring a former flame put in a weird position

She wrapped her arms around my shoulders. Our foreheads touched. I put my hands on her bare knees. I rubbed her thighs. With each stroke, I circled wider. I went a little slower. I ventured deeper up her leg. I wondered when she would stop me. She didn't. My fingers brushed the edge of her panties. I drew back. I left my hands around her knees.

Indiana lifted her head. I looked up. She was staring into my eyes. She pecked me quickly on the lips. I had no time to pucker. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "I've ruined your party."

– from “St. Andrew's Eve,” a story of love that might calm one's nerves depending on your outlook

Love is the answer...

What are we waiting for? Let's accept it!

Are you a eunuch?

The art show that defies abuse

Still Life, Patriarchy

Contemporary wall art to remind us that Father always says Father knows best

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.

A miniature portrait of MichalMargo at the beach

Help keep the "Bare Bottom" page up and running...

If you love women and art...

Michal is exporting art...is he crackers?

Michal's Sales Pitch
Lot 1: Silesian Handicrafts

  1. T-shirt fundraiser for sale

    Handcrafted t-shirt fundraiser for sale.

    Last T-Shirt with the logo that I designed. Pointer

    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.

  2. Felt handbag for sale

    Handcrafted felt handbag for sale.

    Felt bag by Dorota. Pointer

    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.

  3. Decorative collar for sale

    Handcrafted decorative collar for sale.

    Decorative collar by Zuzanna. Pointer

    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.

  4. Seamless handbag for sale

    Handcrafted seamless handbag for sale.

    Handbag by Sylwia. Pointer

    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.

  5. Patchwork quilt for sale

    Handcrafted patchwork quilt for sale.

    Patchwork quilt by Alicja. Pointer

    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.

  6. Nuno-felt shawl for sale

    Handcrafted nuno-felt shawl for sale.

    Shawl by Sylwia. Pointer

    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.

  7. Clara the doll for sale

    Handcrafted clara the doll for sale.

    Clara by Alicja. Pointer

    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.

  8. Noah the doll for sale

    Handcrafted noah the doll for sale.

    Noah by Alicja. Pointer

    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.

  9. Black suspenders for sale

    Handcrafted black suspenders for sale.

    Black suspenders by Zuzanna. Pointer

    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.

  10. Orange suspenders for sale

    Handcrafted orange suspenders for sale.

    Orange suspenders by Zuzanna. Pointer

    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.

  11. Green suspenders for sale

    Handcrafted green suspenders for sale.

    Green suspenders by Zuzanna. Pointer

    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.

  12. Felt earrings for sale

    Handcrafted felt earrings for sale.

    Felt earrings by Dorota. Pointer

    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.

  13. Round ceramic earrings for sale

    Handcrafted round ceramic earrings for sale.

    Round ceramic earrings by Dorota. Pointer

    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.

  14. Oblong ceramic earrings for sale

    Handcrafted oblong ceramic earrings for sale.

    Oblong ceramic earrings by Dorota. Pointer

    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.

  15. 'Coral' necklace for sale

    Handcrafted 'coral' necklace for sale.

    Corals by Sylwia. Pointer

    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.

Handcrafted t-shirt fundraiser
Handcrafted felt handbag
Handcrafted decorative collar
Handcrafted seamless handbag
Handcrafted patchwork quilt
Handcrafted nuno-felt shawl
Handcrafted clara the doll
Handcrafted noah the doll
Handcrafted black suspenders
Handcrafted orange suspenders
Handcrafted green suspenders
Handcrafted felt earrings
Handcrafted round ceramic earrings
Handcrafted oblong ceramic earrings
Handcrafted 'coral' necklace