Michal keeps making calendar wallpaper for women - is he trying to lose money?
Posted:
I'm not a fool. I know that most people are in hiding from themselves. They wallow in their own insecurities, nursing fantasies of being something other than what they are. With this calendar wallpaper, I'd like to encourage them to go wallow in some wet sand. I want them to get their birthday suits dirty and jump around - to know that what you are is a human being and that you belong to a great community of fellow human beings. You just haven't been showing up lately.
Maintaining a calendar isn't so much of a science as it is an art. It reveals a lot about our guiding principles as a society.
Consider the fact that Julius Caesar gave the Roman year an average of exactly 365.25 days, by creating an extra day every four years. This is great because it's very close to the sidereal year, the time it takes the Earth to revolve around the sun as measured against the fixed stars. The problem with the number 365 is that it isn't exactly divisible by the number seven. You end up with an extra day every year that keeps shifting the start of each successive calendar year to a new day of the week.
I use a calendar that solves this problem by simply taking that extra day and doing something special with it. Instead of giving it a number and assigning it to a day of the week, I call it World Peace Day. This way, my calendar always starts the year on a Sunday. I like doing this because not only does it bring order and consistency to my calendar, it brings focus to the idea that world peace is truly indispensable. In my calendar, there's no other way to name this day.
If the world adopted such a method for its official civil calendar, I think it would go a long way to making the idea of world peace unavoidable. I do the same thing with my leap day. I call it Love Your Neighbor Day. Because I can't call it anything else - it's not a Monday or a Friday - I'm reminded of the importance of the greatest commandment. It's so great that there's a day in my calendar named after it that I can't describe in any other way. I can't ignore the idea of loving my neighbor. It's built into my calendar.
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. 2013
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 November 2013 with a pink background
Help End Mobbing With Art
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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...
One week after arriving in Europe, I met a woman in the sauna on the ground floor of the large villa she shared with her ex-husband. Four weeks later she was sharing a small rain-soaked tent with me in Vienna, our little gas-fired stove barely capable of boiling a cup of water. It wasn't until we reached Croatia that we decided to invest in a large electric kettle. It was quite the luxury and it made me very happy.
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.
I had an American passport. She didn't. And the fact that I was driving a car with Polish license plates gave her ample opportunity to point out the difference. It wasn't just police and border guards who ethnically profiled me. Regular folks did it too. One campsite owner didn't shake my hand until he realized I was an American. By that point, I had trained myself to use a simplified English, something that more closely resembled what passes for a lingua franca in Europe these days. Something Margo was trying very hard to master.
Margo and I spent over 40 days on the road. We started out as basically strangers, but in those 40 days we started listening to each other. We started teaching ourselves how to cooperate. Our journey across Europe may have ended, but our journey towards each other continues. No amount of fear, anger, sadness, disgust or anticipation can stop hope. Slowly but surely, we're learning how to beat the devils that abuse us.
6,000 miles across Europe with a complete stranger
During our trip across Europe, Margo very bravely opened up to me and to the camera. It was a difficult thing to do considering the scars that she carries. I wanted to share with the world her often joyful, often sad, often angry but always liberating experience except that the Internet is full of pictures of naked women and men and full of trolls who abuse them.
I realized that what I really need to point out is not the openness that Margo and I cultivated between ourselves, but the darkness that continues to surround us. When I censor nudity, I do so in a way that does not compromise the integrity of the human body. In censoring the photographs that Margo and I took during our trip, I was quick to notice that in those pictures where Margo was at her most open, at her most unguarded and most relaxed, in a word, when she was herself and basking in the sun I was forced to blacken her completely.
Why does our society drive people into darkness? Why can we not accept ourselves as we are? Why can we not accept our bodies? Have we truly become eunuchs? Or are we capable of defying the sickness that pits us against each other? Together we could conquer the devils that abuse us.
Whether you enjoy being nude or not, whether you've been photographed nude or not, but especially if, for you, like for Margo, it's something you never thought you would do, consider submitting your own photograph to be published in a censored manner as a form of protest against the ubiquitous presence of the human body on the internet, naked or not, that is published and duplicated ad infinitum without context and without regard for the identity or the needs of the individual being depicted.
Michal's Dictionary: Bare Bottom Pictures
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 Bottom Pictures
I have yet to publish a pronunciation for the words "bare bottom pictures."
Video of me pronouncing "bare bottom pictures."
Definition of Bare Bottom Pictures
Bare Bottom Pictures is something you would get a lot of if naturists were allowed to post their vacation photos on Facebook.
References for bare bottom pictures
I have yet to find good references for Bare Bottom Pictures
Samples of Fiction from Michal's 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.
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 #538
lesley is a nice guy. which means hes probably an asshole. like chase. jenny had a thing for him too. until i showed her the pictures.
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.
When we were in kindergarten, we learned about George Washington. We sang songs like "My Country 'Tis of Thee" and "This Land is Your Land." We made pictures of cats; we played house. Nothing much else happened.
One time, I successfully defended myself against a hooligan. In the middle of the night, I was once awakened by the stampings and shouts of a group of late-night rabble-rousers. They were climbing up my apartment building's main stairwell. Outside my door, they began ripping apart various pictures from the walls. They were cheap pictures, mostly posters, but I was very angry for being awakened. Going to the kitchen, I grabbed a large knife and lemon, and, going to the front door, I opened it. Leaning against the doorframe, I saw my provokers' faces. It was my upstairs neighbor's eldest son ripping off paintings from the wall. There was an older boy with him, along with his baby boo and some other ugly girl, perhaps the older boy's girlfriend. They all ran down the stairs. My neighbor was left alone. Ever so slowly, I began slicing my lemon. My neighbor came up to me - not too close, but close enough to be 'in my face.' My knife was pointed right at his gut.
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.
Like a plantar wart on the sole of your foot, this feeling is a very common, and yet abnormal, proliferation of growth, caused by infection, which normally would be painless, and is, until it expands to a place of pressure, so that, with each step, it painfully flattens itself against the surface of your body and you can barely see it without careful examination.
– Title 2, Regarding the Romaniac, Part 1, Section 5, Warts, Paragraph 2, Clauses 3-4
JO: Yes: I have a habit of listening to opera whenever I paint: even if it's bare wall.
I have also taken notice of your desire for poetry, but I must confess that I am not in the mood for waxing poetic. These modern hospitals are not quite fitting; they are too sterile, too mechanical; there are too many synthetic materials, too much plastic to be a good place for fostering passion. This corner is too quiet, too deadly quiet: a good place for writing - but not poetry; whether it be for my poetry or my prose, this hospital wing is too orderly; the rhythm here is too tired, too much going about one's business with a barely disguised reluctance. There's no way to wheedle any poetry out from these people. They are probably underpaid - but then again, I know nothing about British health care, and I'm not the sick one, so I won't complain. I don't think you want any elegies - although, when I look at Albert's quiet body: the once sturdy frame slowing sinking into itself - an elegy is all I can think of writing. But there is time for that.
– Title 3, Regarding a Dream, Chapter 1, The First Day, Part 1, Victory & Calendar Reform, Section 2, Poetics, Paragraph 5
Meanwhile, the bitch, who had jumped onto the litter to play with her madam's breasts, now jumped off and approached him. She was very excited. She would skip around on her toes. Sometimes, she would stand in place and jump up and down. Then, she would take a moment to glare at Nike, then suddenly bare her teeth. She would hiss very loudly.
They were so careful as to seem casual. But they were not casual. They were deliberate. They placed me. They put me so high, so very high: right against her hip. I could feel her bone against my bone: my wrist against her hip - her strong hip, her proud hip, a child-bearing hip - oh what kind of hip was touching my hand? Could it be an honest hip? the kind I can trust? Or is it too fragile? close to breaking down? Is it? the bone? I pressed it. I pushed it, rubbing my wrist against it. I was communicating. I was saying hello. I pressed it again. What's your name, hip? Are you a good hip? I pressed it again, but this time, I held my pressure...then I let go. Then I pressed it again. This time, I held it even longer, and, when I let go, I waited. I waited for a while. And then, her hand responded. She gave me the answer. She said: yes! it's a good hip. Trust me: I know. Don't worry, she said. And she kept saying it. She was caressing my hand; she was barely moving it, but she was caressing.
– Title 3, Regarding a Dream, Chapter 1, The First Day, Part 1, Victory & Calendar Reform, Section 13, Apprehension, Paragraph 5, Clauses 29-50
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."
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."
The woman threw the sword away. She crouched low. She prepared to defend herself with her bare hands. Gog sheathed his sword. He grappled with the woman. He couldn't stop smiling-even as she bit his jaw. Gog cried out. He tried to laugh his way through the pain. He pulled the woman back by her hair. He whispered, "I like you."
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."
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 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
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
(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
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.
A story book full of short fiction stories. An interesting bedtime mystery. A fairy tale. Science fiction romance. Adult life. Uninspiring gay fiction. Horror.
My thoughts raced. What was going on? I imagined leaning over and kissing her. I shook my head. Why would I think that? I considered putting my hand on her knee. What for? Nonsense. I remembered how I grasped her bare buttocks. My God. What had I done?
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.
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.
"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.
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.
To promote democracy, the strong must empty themselves of their strength. The weak must be granted the opportunity to grow strong. We cannot force the end of patriarchy. To do so simply perpetuates feudalism under a different name.
Your help keeps the "Bare Bottom Pictures" page alive...
If you love women and art...
Michal is importing art from Poland...is he meshuggah?
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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