Michal's HeadlinesNobel Prize Literature

Michal presents 4Occupy, an online art gallery and culture blog

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A miniature portrait of MichalMichal Recommends:

VEEGUM(r) and VAN GEL(r)

natural clays by RT Vanderbilt

from VEEGUM(r)/VAN GEL(r) The Story
A map showing R.T. Vanderbilt's mines and processing plants in the western United Sates
Clay ores mined in Nevada, Arizona & California
Margo behind a tree

Nobel Prize Literature, a cultural reference

Understanding the world from all angles...

Michal makes movies to promote female empowerment... Does he think women are weak?Filmy dla Kobiet poster

Women are not weak. Most of them have ten hands. What many of them lack in comparison to men is aggression. Men like to act without listening. I want to empower women so that they can influence men to act more favorably for justice, equality and peace.Pointer

Through hard work and perseverance, I've learned to start listening to women. I'd be proud to give everyone a chance to make that lesson stick for them.

I've decided to export fine art handcrafted by women in Poland to America. High quality handcrafted art produced by high quality women deserves to be shared. The more I can sell stateside to people who know the difference, the more I can buy from those whose worthy hands to continue the fight for openness and equality, a fight that I've taken to the world wide web.

Your support ensures that films for women will make a difference.

If the clip has trouble playing please try a version with a lower resolution.

Queen KongPointer

Part 2: Enter Queen Kong

Margo appears to the guests assembled at the Vagina Cafe wearing a gorilla suit, boxing gloves, and moon shoes.

Help End Child Sexual Abuse 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, from the beginning of my adult career, my work had been devoted to the problem of body acceptance, a goal that I would later learn was shared by a whole community of people called naturists, a humble portion of which I discovered residing in Poland, a country whose cultural conservatism does not lend itself readily to forward thinking. One of those forward-thinking Polish naturists happened to be Margo.

I was from America, land of the free...home of the brave. She carried the weight of Old Europe...domestic and religious poverties...stifled creativity. Anger. Sadness. Yearning.

Do unto others as you would have done unto you. But how to judge what we would want done to us if we've never been in somebody else's shoes? If we've never been abandoned by our mother, how do we treat somebody who has? Somebody who seems to constantly suffer the repurcussions of it? Margo and I had 46 days and 6,000 miles to try on each other's shoes. We had one car and one tent in which to hear each other's words. We learned to cooperate. We started learning how to listen.

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

6,000 miles across Europe with a complete stranger

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Day 32
8/20/2011
 1༜25/24

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Camping Omaha Beach

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Vierville Sur Mer, France

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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:
Nobel Prize Literature

I fondly remember the Scholastic Book Club catalogs I got in elementary school when I was a kid. I was always looking forward to getting them. It was fun to read all the descriptions and figure out what types of literature interested me the most, although it was particularly upsetting if a world literature anthology I liked was too expensive to even think about buying. I had to make informed decisions. Otherwise it meant a trip to the library and the hope that somebody else wouldn't have checked out any of my books-to-read.

There was one book that was always at the library but that I never had the courage to check out. It wasn't science fiction. It was a book about sex. I was afraid to hold it. Opening it made my heart race. I was afraid to be seen standing in the aisle. I had to switch aisles. I was a long way from the children's section but this was the one place in my world where I could see what a naked girl my age looked like. In the photograph she was standing in a line of girls and women, each progressively taller, older, rounder, fuller. If I had been able to at the time, I would've given this book a nobel prize just for this photograph. I wanted to know what girls were hiding and this was the one book that had the courage to show me the truth. Just having the chance to see the truth was satisfying, not to mention the fact that I was fascinated by the changes represented in those bodies. That I had to hide myself in a corner of a public library in Lincoln, Nebraska in order to see this truth opened up many questions for me.

The last time I was in a library I saw a grown man sitting in front of a computer unashamedly clicking through pictures of large breasts in bikinis on Facebook. If this man were able to do it, I'm sure he would give Facebook a nobel prize for providing this type of literature. He and I are products of a culture that fetishizes the human body. All primitive cultures fetishize something. They give it a specific charge, either positive or negative. It's the "why" that drives a community. Cowboys drive a herd of cattle by negatively fetishizing the land on either side. Men are driven the same way. For us to build a truly free society, one marked not just by sophisticated technology but also by a sophisticated culture, we will have to destroy the fetishes that drive us.

It doesn't matter what types of literature you like. Whether you like reading science-fiction or sampling world literature of an adult nature, just keep in mind that your choice is a little nobel prize of its own. Your choice dictates what kind of writing takes place. If you want humanity to live like cattle, do nothing. If you want to be a cowboy like me, see the fetish for what it is. Destroy its power.

Pronunciation of Nobel Prize LiteratureMargo on a trampoline

I have yet to publish a pronunciation for the words "nobel prize literature."

Video of me pronouncing "nobel prize literature."

Definition of Nobel Prize LiteratureMargo on a trampoline

Nobel Prize Literature is the set of writing recogized through the distribution of gifts as being useful to society by the people who control the distribution of those gifts.

References for nobel prize literatureMargo on a trampoline

  • I have yet to find good references for Nobel Prize Literature

     

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 #500

skype wants me to stay here. at the downtown office. literally. behind a desk. he says he wants to keep an eye on me. make sure im ok.

Ikea Credit

31 July, 9:45 AM

Frame #74

people - im sorry for being technologically illiterate. when i heard short message i thought sawed.off shotgun or maybe bieber's manhood.

JC Penney

26 July, 12:45 PM

Frame #506

what i need is a big score. the biggest. the score to settle all other scores. money. lots of it. in my bank. literally. im going to own it.

Chase Credit

31 July, 11:24 AM

Frame #4132

reddit says if theres proof aznar was in the country just publish the story. these people are literally undermining our country.

Sprint "Iphone" Case

28 September, 9:22 AM

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.

Jesus's mother was so mad. She found him sitting on her father's front porch, which was narrow, slightly wider than the door itself, and covered on either side. Two short benches on either side faced each other. Jesus was sitting on one of them. He wasn't hiding; he had sat there on purpose so his mother would find him there suddenly and be compelled to sit down in front of him, rather than shout at him from a distance. He wanted her first question to be: "Why did you lock us inside?" It was perfect: just as he planned. In as few words as possible, Jesus explained the injustice done to him by the girl's father and the insult of second prize. Jesus's mother weakened: with less anger, she explained how poor his family was, how they spent everything on keeping him in the United States, and how they couldn't spend money on stupid prizes. The pencil sharpener, whether he liked it or not, was his prize no matter what: even if he had won the race, he still would've gotten it. Now Jesus was mad both for losing the race and for being poor. He was sentenced to his room till evening.

Verse 152 from the chapter called Childhood

So we walked, looking for wild mushrooms - specifically: the boletus, which is what the Romans called 'the best kind of mushroom.' The Polish call it 'the borowik.' 'The noble borowik,' nicknamed 'the real kind,' was the most prized borowik, but the noble borowik's brown cap, its plump, white stem, were nowhere to be seen. We walked for hours - nothing. All we found was another kind of mushroom, the scabrous borowik: the boletus scaber, the rough borowik. It wasn't a noble borowik, but at least they were edible. We gathered them.

Verse 13 from the chapter called Bohemia

I know the lure of success. I feel the pressures of domination. That farmer who sows rye in every field is not a victim. Nor is he some kind of scab. He is a player in a game with no teams, and he deserves no one's pity or awe or respect any more than the rest of us do. Your father always had to win. He would go and cry if he lost - every time. Once, your great-grandfather held a race for the boys and girls. Jesus was distracted for some reason; he missed the starting gun. His first reaction, unfortunately, was to complain. Realizing that the race had already started and wasn't going to be stopped, Jesus went for it. He went as fast as a young boy could, just so he wouldn't have to bear the shame of coming in dead last. He was beaten by a girl. She received first prize and Jesus received second. He was infuriated. Second prize was obviously inferior - too inferior. First prize was an electronic game system. Second prize was a fancy pencil sharpener. Jesus went and cried, not realizing that the prizes were personal: they were designated. Nor did he realize that the girl's family was rich, and his family was, in comparison, very poor.

Verse 150 from the chapter called Childhood

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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.

"There's one across the river at Wilson and Lexington. My aunt's latest creation is undergoing trials right now. They take two full years, testing everything possible: from disease resistance, to fragrance, to color, to the form of the flower and the bud, how it grows, you name it. The thing is, they want a rose that's beautiful and easy to grow; that way, it'll sell." Macy had a quibble with this. Of course he loved the idea of prize-winning roses, and he especially appreciated the fact that the Rose Selections took two whole years to make their judgment. "I think that's wonderfully scientific, and so incredibly patient." Most other prizes, he supposed, seemed to rely solely on people's opinions, although prize juries and judging panels that made decisions in camera were, on the whole, much more preferable than organizations like "that awful Academy that has its members mail in their votes. How do you know they even saw the nominees? that they weren't bribed?" But quite apart from the quality of judging, Macy had a problem with the way all prizes seemed to be geared toward the market. "I'm not surprised that mass-produced culture suffers from this disease; making a movie is expensive; the industry employs a lot of people, and if things don't sell, there's no turnover: people are out of business.

– Title 1, Regarding Peaches and Bananas, Part 2, Section 9, Attacking homosexuality, Paragraph 1, Clauses 4-14

So the industry makes a big deal out of its own accomplishments. That's why, if you're not a rose-grower you don't really hear about the Rose Selections. It's a niche market, which means that there's a steady audience, that certain people will always be buying roses: why should the judges be worried about what's going to be popular?" I told Macy that simplicity is a virtue, and if the Rose Selectors wish to commend a grower for developing an easy flower to grow, then it lies entirely within their prerogative. Nike agreed, pointing out that the Rose Selectors were judging roses, "not rose growers. If they were doing that, then maybe they'd give the award to someone who could successfully grow a difficult rose." Macy agreed that it was entirely natural for the judges to compliment a rose that was easy to grow. "But that's not my point. My point is: why isn't there a prize for rose growers? That kind of prize would reward merit, it would raise public awareness of these talented people and their art form, but it wouldn't serve the economy and therefore it would never be subjected to its forces." Nike stopped to consider this, but I already knew that Macy was mistaken. Not only was he being idealistic, he was being plain wrong. I asked him why he'd want to divorce prize-giving from the promotion of goods. What good would that serve? "It would serve the ideal," he replied; "it would preserve the purity of the prize itself." I turned away from him and stared in front of me. I told him he was being foolish; he was defining a prize as something periodically given by an institution to members of a select community. I told him to consider a prize given daily from one person to another; I told him to consider marriage. "Love," I said, "is a gift freely given, but marriage is a prize for which people apply, for which some qualify and some do not. Whoever be the judge, the prize is awarded on the basis of merit, and the banns of marriage proclaim the lucky victors. Do you think you can divorce marriage from its promotion of life? How fruitful is the marriage without children? Tell me honestly, is your ideal marriage incapable of producing children?" I did not turn to face him; instead, I got up and went for a drink.

– Title 1, Regarding Peaches and Bananas, Part 2, Section 9, Attacking homosexuality, Paragraph 1, Clauses 15-33

"You have not been honest," I said, and I proceeded to express my disgust for all that he had done, for all the ways he had let his feelings dictate his action. I said a lot of things, but I did not mention the pettiness he was performing at that very moment - not for his sake, but for my own: as I could not bring myself to mention that name: the name of the person he was now apparently cheating. I told him that I loved him, that I was very sorry, but no matter how much love I had to give, I was not a prize he could ever win: he did not qualify for the competition.

– Title 1, Regarding Peaches and Bananas, Part 2, Section 7, Trying to Kiss, Paragraph 12

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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.

The announcer cried, "At six foot two, one hundred and eighty pounds, denizens of Sams Town, stand and recognize number forty-two, your power forward, Shaq." The crowd on one side cheered. The West African trotted loosely onto the court. Tatum huffed. This was one of the reasons she didn't enjoy watching professional sports. Athletes were always treated like prize-winning chattel.

– from “Dirty Manga People Are Disgusting,” a spooky story featuring two people who learn to trust each other

In the morning, Gog realized his consort was gone. He rushed to the shore. He arrived in time to see the Greek ship leaving. He cursed it. He saw the Greeks on the deck. They taunted him. They shouted, "Athena has taken your queen. She is a prize worthy of the gods." The wind filled their sail. Gog dove into the water. The Greeks saw him swimming. They laughed.

– from “In the Beginning, There was Gog,” a fantasy story featuring a frank discussion of what the world is all about

Junior seized those hands. He gazed into the woman's eyes. He whispered, "Don't you know?" Nyota shook her head. Junior smiled. He jerked his head toward the sky. Nyota looked up. A blimp was passing over the roof of the grandstand.

"Your price is worth far more than rubies," said Junior, "or a company, or even the Belmont's million-dollar prize."

– from “A Horse Named Clutch Bag,” an inspiring story featuring a bunch of people tied to the yoke

"If I a brigand be,

Then so be all of ye.

For though I robbed and sinned,

I did it like the wind.

I never left my stench,

Upon a church's bench.

While you Lords sit and pray,

You do it every day,

Thinking yourselves so wise,

Deserving every prize,

For having such clean feet,

And farting out your meat."

– from “Italy Sucks and Has Sucked For A Long Time,” an adventure story featuring a man who kidnaps a young woman

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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: Speak up.

MS. JACKSON: There is no lighter sound than the ring of truth. It springs from the tongue like a frightened toad, aiming its horny skin into the eyes of those who would seek to catch it. Were you to devour a million truths you would never find them all and you'd still be as hungry as when you first started - so beware, husband, lest you choke.

GREY GOOSE: On a frog in my throat? Have you gone mad? There are no frogs on this island, woman - in case you hadn't noticed your entire life. I suppose that friend of yours from New Zealand taught you to speak with such poetry.

MS. JACKSON: New Zealand has a great literary heritage. That's something you couldn't possibly understand.

GREY GOOSE: Am I daft?

MS. JACKSON: You are a bully: a no-good, bleeding, rebel-rousing bully.

GREY GOOSE: Alright.

MS. JACKSON: A fire-starter.

GREY GOOSE: Enough.

MS. JACKSON: Arsonist!

– ACT I, lines 301-310

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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.

My father thinks I'm being immature. He doesn't realize I'm trying to mock him. It's all his fault. Pretending to cheat on his wife. As if he didn't know it would cause a disaster. For two years my mother refused him sex. Why would she think he was pretending?

– from “The Backed-Up Toilet,” a literature story based on something that actually happened, namely to the author

I almost called the police. On my own mother. The look in her eyes as I restrained her. Sight unseen. So full of spite and hate. Towards her own son. If her husband hadn't come to take her upstairs I would've done it. She wasn't backing down.

– from “The Backed-Up Toilet,” a literature story based on what really happened, namely to the author

We need only refer to nineteenth century French literature to confirm this. According to Anatole France, Saint Paphnutius was destroyed by a look. Struck by the sight of Thais on stage, as she played the role of pure-hearted Polyxena, lifting the curtain with her white arm, pride and resignation in her violet eyes, the hermit monk, sent to save the whore from her dissipation, grew so infatuated with her image, learning later she was on her death bed, surrounded by her fellow nuns, he begged her petulantly not to die, rejecting Heaven, as she rose, moments before her final breath, to proclaim a vision of God with such rapture in her eyes, it held for poor Paphnutius the profound emptiness of his own soul. He turned into a vampire. That is the power of a look.

– from “St. Andrew's Eve,” a story of love that may ease one's sense of discomfort depending on your outlook

I suffer. It takes a lot of effort to stand in front of that toilet. Or worse. Sitting on it. With balls dangling precariously above a pile of this months shit. I don't want to say it but it scares the crap out of me.

– from “The Backed-Up Toilet,” a literature story based on true life, namely the author's

My father never lied to my mother about going up to see his old girlfriend. He lied to me. So I wouldn't say anything. So my mother could find out about it later. From the receipts. It was part of the grand scheme. To bring things to a head. To back up the toilet of their lives. To bring up the festering crap they had tucked away in their basement all these years. Like the accusation that my father had raped my mother. On some night twelve years ago. When she had said no. And he had done it anyway. I wanted to laugh but my wife was there. Her father raped her mother. Allegedly. My wife is convinced its true. Despite only having heard one side of it. If it were as bad as it sounds I doubt her parents would still be together. But they are. Like my parents. They've reconciled. For all intents and purposes they're a happily married couple. They hold hands in the street. While my wife wont sleep with me. Because on some rainy afternoon two years ago I told her I wanted to rape her.

– from “The Backed-Up Toilet,” a literature story based on something that happened, namely to the author

Love is the answer...

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

Are you a eunuch?

The art show that defies abuse

Natural + Life

Large Wall Art Depicting the Human Landscape

Life is a spinning sphere with Joy at one pole and Sadness at the other. Each continuously feeding its pair. Joy flanked by the emotions of Trust on one side, Surprise on the other. Trust leading to Anticipation; anticipation leading to Fear. Surprise leading to Disgust; disgust leading to Anger. Anger and Fear fueling our Sadness. Sadness giving way, in time, to Joy; through Hope, an orientation towards Love. Love, an openness towards Joy, Trust and Surprise; the sum of emotion; emotion amplified by others. Multiplied and divided, in equal parts. Such that to those from whom it has been subtracted, we must add. Until we are whole.

A miniature portrait of MichalMargo at the beach

Your support keeps the "Nobel Prize Literature" page alive...

If you love women and art...

Michal's exporting Polish art...is he nutty?

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.

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Handcrafted oblong ceramic earrings
Handcrafted 'coral' necklace