I'm the kind of guy who for the most part will urinate standing up. That's not to say that I don't enjoy a good sit-down once in a while when I'm peeing. I do think I'm in touch with my feminine side. Regardless of that, I think that female empowerment is good for men. Out of my own self-interest, I started learning how to listen.
By getting past my preconceptions, and actually listening to women, I've become a better judge and a more helpful person. I want to give others a chance to do the same.
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.
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Janina: An Oral History of the Twentieth Century in Southern Poland
Chapter 6: Captive
Janina tells the story of her father's captivity during the first World War and the kindness he showed a Russian countess during the Bolshevik Revolution.
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...
In June of 2011 I arrived in Europe for what I hoped would be a great adventure; my only concrete plan, to visit Croatia. By September I had driven 6,000 miles and visited 12 different countries, all with a woman I met on the first Friday of my trip.
Though as an artist I had been working on body acceptance since the start of my career, and as a one-time practicing figure model was used to being nude in a social setting, I had been left largely unexposed to the community of naturists and nudists working towards the same goal of promoting the human being. Visiting nude beaches and resorts along the East Coast and participating in events organized around New York by Young Naturists America, I was left hungry for more and had come to Europe to see things from their side of the pond. Margo was my introduction.
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.
Each man grows up with his own kind of poverty. Even if he's got a warm house and plenty of food and a soft bed and plenty of entertainment, there's always something that a man needs. Sometimes he just needs to be listened to, if only by the birds and the trees, but preferably by another man, even if he's an artist from America who isn't very good at listening. By learning how to listen, we learn how to cooperate. By cooperating, we build a better world. In a better world, there are no devils to abuse us. A better world doesn't lend itself to abuse because a better world is populated by people who have learned how to listen.
6,000 miles across Europe with a complete stranger
During our trip across Europe, Margo very bravely opened up to me and to the camera. It was a difficult thing to do considering the scars that she carries. I wanted to share with the world her often joyful, often sad, often angry but always liberating experience except that the Internet is full of pictures of naked women and men and full of trolls who abuse them.
I realized that what I really need to point out is not the openness that Margo and I cultivated between ourselves, but the darkness that continues to surround us. When I censor nudity, I do so in a way that does not compromise the integrity of the human body. In censoring the photographs that Margo and I took during our trip, I was quick to notice that in those pictures where Margo was at her most open, at her most unguarded and most relaxed, in a word, when she was herself and basking in the sun I was forced to blacken her completely.
Why does our society drive people into darkness? Why can we not accept ourselves as we are? Why can we not accept our bodies? Have we truly become eunuchs? Or are we capable of defying the sickness that pits us against each other? Together we could conquer the devils that abuse us.
Whether you enjoy being nude or not, whether you've been photographed nude or not, but especially if, for you, like for Margo, it's something you never thought you would do, consider submitting your own photograph to be published in a censored manner as a form of protest against the ubiquitous presence of the human body on the internet, naked or not, that is published and duplicated ad infinitum without context and without regard for the identity or the needs of the individual being depicted.
Michal's Dictionary: Oral History
Each successive pillar of culture is built upon the previous one. Just as you cannot have Saturday without Friday, you cannot have a strong military without successful children. You can't have successful children without good science. Proper science requires a strong and confident body politic to accept its conclusions. A strong body politic, a peaceful assembly, is made up of strong families. A family is built upon labor. Labor is guided by art.
Good art is a good idea well expressed. A victory over oblivion. Carry that thought down the line. Efficient labor sows the fruit of capitalism. The members of a loving family pray to each other. A just constitution keeps the assembly focused. Science studies movement. Education inspires children. Children grow strong and defend our freedom. Democracy thrives.
Our problem is not that we lack a strong army or smart teachers or scientists or political dialogue or money or prayer. Our probem is that nothing ties it together. Our culture is unraveling. We have business executives who only care about the bottom line. We have church leaders who only care about the good name of the church. We have politicians who only care about getting re-elected. We have artists who only care about their self-expression.
Our pillars of culture have climbed quite high. Yet there's nothing but hot air at the top. There's no roof over our heads. We're exposed. Either nobody taught the people at the top to listen to each other or the only way to get to the top is by not listening. Don't say nobody taught us how. Whenever people try we crucify them. That has to change. We need to accept the fact that we are building this church of Man together and it needs a roof.
We need to bridge the pillars of culture.
Pronunciation of Oral History
I have yet to publish a pronunciation for the words "oral history."
Video of me pronouncing "oral history."
Definition of Oral History
I have yet to publish the definition of Oral History.
I'm sure it won't take too long.
References for oral history
I have yet to find good references for Oral History
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 #2816
no matter how sophisticated any beaconis still gonna be blocked by a 12 volt jammer. i wish theyd come up with something to beat that.
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.
Forgive me, child, when I say that I found her, at first, only somewhat attractive. Her forehead was huge; her chin, nonexistent. Only later did I fully realize how well the two complemented each other - it required a sophisticated taste, one which I did not yet possess - but, nevertheless, even the most sophisticated taste would have required some sort of refinement to accept her beauty for what it was: complex and unrepentant. Unearthly was the best word. She was half-Japanese and half-Martian, which made her broad and narrow at the same time. It gave her a short and straight and yet upturned nose that anywhere else would've been ugly, but which on her was essential to the whole. It was a package of such unexpected brilliance that the parts were too bold to allow for quick and easy appreciation of the angelic splendor that shone from within and without. She was light. She was truly an angel. Hers was the most serene and gentle complexion I would ever come to value, and, at first, it struck me as rather odd. It was square and round, flat and curved, with almond-shaped eyes whose lids folded around her eyeballs - they were beautiful eyes. I came to love them with all my heart. What a strange and complex face your mother had.
In the history of litigation, nobody had ever dared bring such a case before the International Court of Justice. The main reason was 'contributory negligence,' something which the defendants could easily plead, seeing as how few people could legitimately claim that they had never done anything to contribute to the world's air pollution. Here is where your grandfather's genius came through: he had never let your grandmother drive a car; she had never operated any kind of combustion engine; she had never even made a fire, having always cooked on electric stoves; she was immaculate, having spent most of her life in bed, never having owned a house, and therefore never having had to heat one with coal or gas - she was perfect.
"It's because we don't have any ammunition. If we had ammunition, we'd be running obstacle courses under live fire."
"Is that what they told you?" I asked.
"That's what my father told me. It's what he did. They didn't hold stools until they crapped their pants; they crawled through the mud - then they crapped their pants."
"How could you tell at night?"
"Oh, the smell, cousin: the smell. It's stronger than napalm: the smell of fear."
The case went to trial on schedule, but, instead of his wife as plaintiff, the plaintiff was her estate, and, as party to it, your grandfather was subject - to what? - to the defendants' pleas of contributory negligence: all his victories and failures - the whole history of your grandfather's love affair with litigation - came to stab him in the back. Jesus's father was rightly accused of placing his own wife in danger, exacerbating her delicate condition, and thereby being the single, most important cause of her tragic and most untimely death from...asthma (and other diseases which may or may not be caused by the presence of toxic agents in the air and for which national governments may or may not be liable - future litigants will decide).
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 is nothing like philosophy to kill the spirit. And don't try to infer from my history of failure that somehow my judgment has been flawed all along; I assure you that the overwhelming majority of gentlemen, and of course ladies, who have presented themselves to me as potential companions have done so with the utmost regard for disclosure. What many have lacked in dignity, or especially tact, was generally offset by charming attributes in other areas. And I feel no shame in confessing that often enough our relations were hampered only by my own indiscretions.
– Title 1, Regarding Peaches and Bananas, Part 1, Section 1, Introduction, Paragraph 2, Clauses 7-11
BERT: Well, let me explain the history. You see, in the old days, merchants would keep their assets in banks all over the ancient world. And if you were shipping goods across the Mediterranean or something, you would sell your goods to a merchant at the port. You would give him a bill, and he would accept it by signing it. But then he'd give it back to you, because the bill wouldn't become due until a certain agreed-upon time. Now in the meanwhile, you could sell that bill to anyone; that's why it's negotiable - except that if the buyer defaults on the debt, you are liable because you've endorsed it - unless you sell it back to his actual creditors, which is to say, the banks that are holding his assets. You don't have to wait for the bill to be due to get your money, but the bank will take a cut for themselves, because then they have to wait, and you'll have to sell it for less than it's worth. And that's the premise behind the bill of exchange. Sorry for the lecture.
The Travelers' Club was hosting a lecture on William Hogarth that afternoon, and Christie, having limited interest in the history of English painting (having had to suffer it as a young girl for many years on account of her dear father's personal interest in both museums and his daughter's education) was inclined to thank the distinguished gentleman and sudden acquaintance, who had seen her work on the stage, and who had only good things to say about her performance, and who, inviting the gracious Christie to the Travelers' Club, had made a very distinctive impression on the young girl, who saw in him, in his manners and his maturity, and in the interest he took in Hogarth's paintings, the most chilling representation of her father she had ever seen, which made her blush politely, insisting that under no circumstances would she be able to excuse herself from a prior commitment, and that, however exciting such a lecture might be, she would have to wait, regrettably, for the next one.
In reaching their conclusion they have given full deference to their egoism, and history must yield to a more fully developed understanding of the invidious quality of their absurdity - because I do not know how they can identify the privileges bestowed by the State on participants in a civic institution (marriage) as concrete reasons for that participation to be acknowledged as a civil right.
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.
As soon as everybody else had left, Junior asked Harry why he let his wife treat him so poorly. "You're not one of those masochists, are you?" He had met a few of those. They had watched him make love to their wives.
Harry Connick shook his head. Junior thought he heard him whisper the word, "No."
"A Bantu woman," thought Junior, "in my company. She must be worthwhile." He checked the department listing. She was a secretary for Ann Taylor. That was going to be a problem. Ann was the most successful woman in the history of the company. She worked for the general commercial manager, Randall G. Fitzwater III.
Tae turned. There she was, sitting cross-legged like Buddha against the side of a dune. Tae sighed. He ran as fast as he could. He threw down his spear. He dropped to his knees in front of her. He panted. Joy swelled his face. He waited. Bo sat motionless. Her eyes were fixed on the grand horizon. Her face betrayed nothing. She said, "Is it not beautiful?"
She was the type of girl his mother would want him to marry. She was rich, sophisticated, charming, articulate, white, Protestant, not to mention sexually adventurous. It didn't matter she was in her forties. The problem was she was already married.
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.
FLETCHER: Kokomo is a confirmed Catholic. She was filled with the strength of the Holy Ghost.
ALICE: I didn't know axe-wielding was one of His gifts.
FLETCHER: I'll have to ask my catechist the next time we meet.
ALICE: Are you a catechumen?
FLETCHER: I'm an inquirer. Kokomo is my ever patient sponsor.
ALICE: Was that before she caught you?
FLETCHER: I suppose I wanted her to find it. She has a point, as far as art is concerned. Whatever one thinks of its medicinal uses, it can't cure a lack of imagination.
ALICE: The sensory awareness it provides or the perception of time one experiences under its influence can benefit pursuits like contemplation or flower arrangement.
FLETCHER: What's made you such a passionate partisan? Have you partaken of the peace pipe?
ALICE: Occasionally. It's been more often than that. I used to work for a florist. There was never any reason not to smoke. To be completely honest, I accidentally brought some with me.
A story book full of short fiction stories. An interesting bedtime mystery. A fairy tale. Science fiction romance. Adult life. Uninspiring gay fiction. Horror.
Shovels fall. The soldiers are done. My comrade should be dead. Like me. Yet something is heaving. Did the soldiers fail to shoot her? Does the soil not cover her mouth? Will she yet rise from the pillow of my twisted neck? There is no way I can turn my head to see. Death is helpless.
I didn't start the war. Who started the war? Our forefathers? The people who lived here first? Cavemen? You know, you go way back in history you're gonna find the first person who had something and the other guy who didn't. you know. Cain and Abel. Blame them. It's not my fault. I didn't even make the decision that brought the six of us together, you know. That was way above my head.
An ocean drifts below. A distant shore brings towers of glass and steel. Workers perched atop unfinished spires beam proud industrious smiles. These are the spoils of victory. My comrade and I drift to the ground. We find nothing to celebrate.
The wind subsides. My comrade and I settle in a tree. Through the branches I spot the moss-clad shingles of a country roof. Some of them are rotting. I know the smell. I sense more rot with each passing day. The moss thickens.
If a 45-year-old businesswoman and hard working mother of three kids is going to pose nude for a calendar, it's gonna have to be a good one. Margo didn't start a coffee shop called the Vagina Cafe to win her favors from the establishment. Even as she dishes out prizes to the 20 women who placed last in the twentienth anniversary run of her town's biggest road race, her business, unlike everyone else, doesn't get mentioned. She was an official sponsor for Christ's sake! But the announcer just couldn't swallow his patriarchy and get the words "Vagina Cafe" out of his mouth. That's not something a proper gentleman would say in front of a crowd of humble God-fearing "ladies" who cherish their modesty! And a Body Acceptance Calendar is certainly not what a humble God-fearing book-seller like a Barnes and Noble would put on their shelves! So how do I expect to sell this in the mainstream? Maybe if you download the free versions a thousand billion times it might help. Start downloading.
Help keep the "Oral History" page up and running...
If you love women and art...
Michal is exporting art from Poland...is he bats?
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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