Michal sweats and loses sleep making films for women... Is he trying to lose weight?
Posted:
People lead by example. If people see me listening to women, it's possible that the next time they have an opportunity to do it, they'll take it - despite how hard it is to consider another person's needs as if they were your own. That's what it means to listen. It's not just about hearing the words coming out of a woman's mouth. You have to understand them. Then and only then can you judge wisely.
I'm learning how to listen to women - even if sometimes they say terrible things. I'd like to give everyone 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 continue the fight for openness and equality, a fight that I'm taking 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 18: Schnapps
Janina describes seeing her teacher alive for the last time, among other Jews under the guard of German soldiers at the train station, sparking memories of her uncle, a Polish army doctor, and the evacuation of the Polish government at the start of the war and her father's interviews with passing German soldiers.
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...
Lots of people go on road trips. Not everybody criss-crosses Europe in 46 days. Especially not with a complete stranger.
Though I felt fully formed as a writer, and had been trained in visual language, it was my first time with a professional camera in my hands. I was just learning the ins and outs and had come to Europe to find as diverse a selection of subject matter as possible, preferably something that fit my aesthetic devotion to promoting body acceptance. Enter Margo.
I had grown up in America. Land of opportunity. I came of age in the booming 90s when everything was possible. She had grown up in Poland. She had come of age at a time when the Soviets were making sure that there wasn't even anything to eat in the country. I couldn't even properly translate the word "opportunity" into Polish.
Despite the cops in Vienna. Despite the rain in Veržej. Despite getting lost in Italy. Despite parting at Soest. Despite that night in Amsterdam. Despite our fight in Lisieux. Despite the storm in the Bois de la Roche. Despite that terrible morning outside Collonges. Despite the long road to Pielenhofen, we came back safe and sound and most importantly we were happy. We had started to learn how to listen. We had left the devils of the road behind and the devils ahead seemed just a little bit smaller. We had started to open up.
6,000 miles across Europe with a complete stranger
During our trip across Europe, Margo very bravely opened up to me and to the camera. It was a difficult thing to do considering the scars that she carries. I wanted to share with the world her often joyful, often sad, often angry but always liberating experience except that the Internet is full of pictures of naked women and men and full of trolls who abuse them.
I realized that what I really need to point out is not the openness that Margo and I cultivated between ourselves, but the darkness that continues to surround us. When I censor nudity, I do so in a way that does not compromise the integrity of the human body. In censoring the photographs that Margo and I took during our trip, I was quick to notice that in those pictures where Margo was at her most open, at her most unguarded and most relaxed, in a word, when she was herself and basking in the sun I was forced to blacken her completely.
Why does our society drive people into darkness? Why can we not accept ourselves as we are? Why can we not accept our bodies? Have we truly become eunuchs? Or are we capable of defying the sickness that pits us against each other? Together we could conquer the devils that abuse us.
Whether you enjoy being nude or not, whether you've been photographed nude or not, but especially if, for you, like for Margo, it's something you never thought you would do, consider submitting your own photograph to be published in a censored manner as a form of protest against the ubiquitous presence of the human body on the internet, naked or not, that is published and duplicated ad infinitum without context and without regard for the identity or the needs of the individual being depicted.
Michal's Dictionary: Reading Stories
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 Reading Stories
I have yet to publish a pronunciation for the words "reading stories."
Video of me pronouncing "reading stories."
Definition of Reading Stories
I have yet to publish the definition of Reading Stories.
I'm sure it won't take too long.
References for reading stories
I have yet to find good references for Reading Stories
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 #1428
fire in the high desert. it started overnight. got big fast. the flames are like ten stories high. just what the water crisis needs.
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.
The women of Earth in those days were hysterical for hand-tinted photographs: they collected them like mad. Your maternal grandmother, Tomiko Panzer-Tank (your grandfather's second wife), who was Japanese, had the greatest collection of Japanese hand-tinted photographs in the world; her photochromes were also very impressive, but these were somewhat less highly regarded. Color prints were nice, but original hand-colored photographs were gold; daguerreotypes and calotypes were priceless - absolutely priceless - if they were painted, of course. If they weren't painted, they were merely interesting.
Heavy and colorful make-up was popular. Men wore make-up - not nearly as much as women, and especially young girls, but they wore it. Hair dyes were somewhat less popular; they were colorful, but more restrained. Men were clean-shaved. Women wore long hair and dressed it.
I will tell you everything from the beginning. I doubt that your grandfather will censor me. I know what he doesn't want you to see. I will keep my secrets. They are dangerous. My secrets are so dangerous, your grandfather kept me under house arrest for the past twenty years. But now that I'm in the infirmary, at death's door, he has shown mercy. I can write to you. And when you come to see me, I will hand you this work: the story of your father's life, the man who loved your mother and Your brother and who would never ever kill them. Your grandfather is cruel, but he is kind: he will let me see you. For twenty years, he has never let anyone see me, except for my beloved Hannah. You will see her! Smile to her! She will smile back. She is like your mother: kind, gentle - she even looks like her: she's half-Japanese.
The jackets were white; the trousers, blood red. Cosmonauts of St. Benedict wore a yellow papal sash, but even this was conservative. Cyan, yellow, and magenta were the colors of the day - owing to their use in color photography, of course - not a nineteenth century invention, but close enough.
Blaming America was difficult. For the simple-minded, it was easy, but most people were conflicted. America was a beautiful country; it had suffered much, but who hadn't? Besides, Americans were in space, in stations orbiting around the Earth; America was on the moon, racing China for the best pieces of real estate. Even though half their country was gone, they were still on top! They were in orbit around the Earth! American soil filled the stratosphere, casting its shadow across the globe: and they were above it! They couldn't care less. To them, the damage was done. Yellowstone exploded - thank you very much, now go and help yourself.
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.
Exhibitionists: I was not surprised to learn that they were friends. Anyway, Macy was describing an experience he had with Lynnhaven during a trip to Virginia - "Vas eez thees, lynnhaven?" our cousin had to interrupt.
Weaving them all into long and masterfully composed narratives, Macy would begin with a deliberately subtle introduction: a thin smile and a whispering "Well, you know" exposition, which would lead to a mounting action, which, if successful, would culminate in a penetrating witticism: perhaps a skillful observation, one more or less encapsulating a common belief or sometimes a misconception, which would, if he were really on target, climax in a parody of character.
It had nothing to do with the bottle. Even as those thoughts curled within me, enveloping me, goadingly steeling me in the gathering steam, I knew the real reason for my decision: it was Macy. He would be there at Nike's house; I would have to see him, greet him after all this time, and, fearing the encounter, I knew that I would rather meet him in the context of a party - not the prepared emptiness, the disquieting silence that surrounds a house before its guests are welcomed.
Once in fact, Macy and I spent the entire day together, sightseeing for the most part. I distinctly remember our trip to the fine arts museum. I excitedly showed him Bellini's naked woman, the one holding a mirror, and explained how Bellini was ninety years old when he painted her, and how so few women were ever portrayed with such openness.
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.
I was frightened. I wanted no harm to come to her. Nike troubled me. He was so unpredictable. What would he do? Would he hurt her? Would he make her do something she didn't want to do? This was my dream. I was helpless. I had no hands to hold back my friend-no body but that which was made of air.
"I'll tell you where. In my opinion, the best place is a swinger bar. Paris has great ones. You need to be lucky. Sometimes you find an orgy. Sometimes there's a bunch of women in their sixties-which I don't mind, if they're hot."
The woman's gastrocnemius bulged. With the humble soleus, it pulled her heel: oh splendid tuber! growth that takes the brunt of our standing, balancing our attempts at uprightness, seed from which blossoms man, which the serpent bites, protect yourself from harm; may we lift you as you walk: that you might crush the serpent. May all our heels be protected. May they not be spoiled by weight. May they glide across earth fearing no evil, no serpents, no stones to bash them. May they be as beautiful as that woman's heel, flying as it was across the road of my dream, casting small, delicate shadows.
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.
KOKOMO: I don't.
GREY GOOSE: You love it. You enjoy every minute of it.
KOKOMO: Like hell I do.
GREY GOOSE: You were born for it.
KOKOMO: That's a lie.
GREY GOOSE: You've said so yourself, haven't you? The day you popped out of your mother's hairy, little cunt, you realized you had to work for a living: you had to cry.
KOKOMO: You are an abomination.
GREY GOOSE: Who taught you to use big words like that?
KOKOMO: Certainly not you.
GREY GOOSE: You've been reading the bible. Get in there.
A story book full of short fiction stories. An interesting bedtime mystery. A fairy tale. Science fiction romance. Adult life. Uninspiring gay fiction. Horror.
I was glad I had the chocolates. I handed them out on the minibus. It was a good thing I had the towel too. It was pouring rain by the time the village headman took me to my room. It was a little cabin next to his barn. He had to run a cord from his house to run the refrigerator. The stove ran on gas bottles which the headman was willing to sell me. If it hadn't been raining, I wouldn't have known there was a leak right over my bed. At least not until I was sleeping in it.
I often wonder why the cruelty imposed on my brothers was necessary for my story. If not for what happened to Barack I would never have been frightened out of Moscow. I would never have had the courage to walk into the unknown. If Barack was not forced to live a life of constant pain, I would not have the life of love I enjoy with my wife. How can I thank him for that?
Khalifa was the first to break. It wasn't enough to be harassed and called dirty chocolate. When his neighbors found out he was a Muslim, a gang of hooligans came to his apartment and attacked him in broad daylight. He had to jump out of his kitchen window to get away. He lived on the fourth floor. He died in hospital a few days later.
On the next day one of the old men was back. I asked him to come inside but he stayed at the window. He wanted to know where I was from. I gave him a brief history of my country and we started arguing over European aid to Africa and whether the Soviet Union was right to have ever been there. It seemed like no matter what I said I was wrong. At least the man treated me like a civil human being. Until he got angry with me and left. I went back to teaching my imaginary class.
It's natural to hide dirty things. They're embarrassing. But we need to keep in mind that when we hide things that are difficult, we make them seem dirty when they're really something else entirely. And when we keep things that are easy in plain sight, we make them seem clean when they really aren't. That is dangerous.
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If you love women and art...
Michal is importing Polish art...is he bonkers?
Michal's Sales Pitch Lot 1: Silesian Handicrafts
T-shirt fundraiser for sale
Last T-Shirt with the logo that I designed.
From a set of, I believe, twenty produced by Margo and given out to a portion of the last 20 women to finish the 20th anniversary Fiat Road Race in Bielsko-Biała, cf. the movie. This is the last one left in it's original packaging and my supporters - like the poor women of Bielsko - are going to have to fight for it. Whoever invests the most money with me, and who lets me borrow it to invest in the next lot, will not only be rewarded with some beautiful piece of art, but will get this priceless t-shirt as a reward for being my top supporter. $1000.00 or best offer. Remember to authorize me to hold the sum as credit against a future purchase and to authorize me to borrow against it.
To purchase please mail a USPS money order in an envelope clearly marked Lot #1/Item #1 to M. Slaby at house number 201 on Ridge Road in the town of West Milford, in the state of New Jersey, one of the beautiful United States of America. The postal code is 07480-3112.
Felt handbag for sale
Felt bag by Dorota.
Entirely hand-sewn. Base: polyester felt, 100% PE. Motif: South American woolen yarn, dyed, 100% wool. Hand-worked with a needle. Unique and inimitable design. Inside: cotton fabric, closes with zipper, inside pocket. Available now for $220.00. Ships free of additional charge via USPS (uninsured) unless otherwise directed.
To purchase please mail a USPS money order in an envelope clearly marked Lot #1/Item #2 to M. Slaby at house number 201 on Ridge Road in the town of West Milford, in the state of New Jersey, one of the beautiful United States of America. The postal code is 07480-3112.
Decorative collar for sale
Decorative collar by Zuzanna.
Ethnic layered cloth jewelry constructed on a cotton base and adorned with ribbons, tassels, and a yellow fringe. Fastened on the side with 11 buttons, fitted entirely with a pleasant lining. The style is an Indo-Asian-African multinational color combination. The collar is very extravagant and an extraordinary addition to any clothing, guaranteed to attract attention. Just a simple dress and a unique image is ready. Dry-cleaning recommended. Available now for $200.00. Ships free of additional charge via USPS (uninsured) unless otherwise directed.
To purchase please mail a USPS money order in an envelope clearly marked Lot #1/Item #3 to M. Slaby at house number 201 on Ridge Road in the town of West Milford, in the state of New Jersey, one of the beautiful United States of America. The postal code is 07480-3112.
Seamless handbag for sale
Handbag by Sylwia.
Handmade from felted all-natural Australian and South American wool. Entirely felted, seamless. Finished with a white lining, inside is a small pocket. Lining is sewn and stitched in by hand. Available now for $180.00. Ships free of additional charge via USPS (uninsured) unless otherwise directed.
To purchase please mail a USPS money order in an envelope clearly marked Lot #1/Item #4 to M. Slaby at house number 201 on Ridge Road in the town of West Milford, in the state of New Jersey, one of the beautiful United States of America. The postal code is 07480-3112.
Patchwork quilt for sale
Patchwork quilt by Alicja.
Bedspread made of cotton and polyester material. Inserted with polyester lining. 90 by 70 cm. Available now for $120.00. Ships free of additional charge via USPS (uninsured) unless otherwise directed.
To purchase please mail a USPS money order in an envelope clearly marked Lot #1/Item #5 to M. Slaby at house number 201 on Ridge Road in the town of West Milford, in the state of New Jersey, one of the beautiful United States of America. The postal code is 07480-3112.
Nuno-felt shawl for sale
Shawl by Sylwia.
Scarf made with the nuno felting technique (wet felting fibre into a silk gauze) using South American wool. Two-sided scarf with latticework at the ends. Wholly in the colors red, black, green in an abstract pattern. Available now for $100.00. Ships free of additional charge via USPS (uninsured) unless otherwise directed.
To purchase please mail a USPS money order in an envelope clearly marked Lot #1/Item #6 to M. Slaby at house number 201 on Ridge Road in the town of West Milford, in the state of New Jersey, one of the beautiful United States of America. The postal code is 07480-3112.
Clara the doll for sale
Clara by Alicja.
Clara loves roses and greenery, adores tormenting spiders with long legs and sleeping soundly in the afternoon. Cuddly toy made of cotton and polyester, stuffed with polyester lining. Available now for $70.00. Ships free of additional charge via USPS (uninsured) unless otherwise directed.
To purchase please mail a USPS money order in an envelope clearly marked Lot #1/Item #7 to M. Slaby at house number 201 on Ridge Road in the town of West Milford, in the state of New Jersey, one of the beautiful United States of America. The postal code is 07480-3112.
Noah the doll for sale
Noah by Alicja.
Noah doesn't know what to like and what not to like but keeps wondering and thinking about it. Cuddly toy made of cotton and polyester, stuffed with polyester lining. Available now for $70.00. Ships free of additional charge via USPS (uninsured) unless otherwise directed.
To purchase please mail a USPS money order in an envelope clearly marked Lot #1/Item #8 to M. Slaby at house number 201 on Ridge Road in the town of West Milford, in the state of New Jersey, one of the beautiful United States of America. The postal code is 07480-3112.
Black suspenders for sale
Black suspenders by Zuzanna.
Two-sided suspenders from black material with a rose motif on one side and striped cotton on the other. Connected by a leather triangle. Adjustable length. Hand washing in cold water recommended. Available now for $50.00. Ships free of additional charge via USPS (uninsured) unless otherwise directed.
To purchase please mail a USPS money order in an envelope clearly marked Lot #1/Item #9 to M. Slaby at house number 201 on Ridge Road in the town of West Milford, in the state of New Jersey, one of the beautiful United States of America. The postal code is 07480-3112.
Orange suspenders for sale
Orange suspenders by Zuzanna.
Two-sided suspenders made of denim and orange material with a Polish floral folk design. Connected by a leather triangle. Adjustable length. Hand washing in cold water recommended. Available now for $50.00. Ships free of additional charge via USPS (uninsured) unless otherwise directed.
To purchase please mail a USPS money order in an envelope clearly marked Lot #1/Item #10 to M. Slaby at house number 201 on Ridge Road in the town of West Milford, in the state of New Jersey, one of the beautiful United States of America. The postal code is 07480-3112.
Green suspenders for sale
Green suspenders by Zuzanna.
Two-sided suspenders made of denim and green material with a mountain folk design. Connected by a leather triangle. Adjustable length. Hand washing in cold water recommended. Available now for $50.00. Ships free of additional charge via USPS (uninsured) unless otherwise directed.
To purchase please mail a USPS money order in an envelope clearly marked Lot #1/Item #11 to M. Slaby at house number 201 on Ridge Road in the town of West Milford, in the state of New Jersey, one of the beautiful United States of America. The postal code is 07480-3112.
Felt earrings for sale
Felt earrings by Dorota.
Material: South American woolen yarn, dyed, 100% wool. Hand-worked with a needle. Pendant of anti-allergenic metal. Available now for $40.00. Ships free of additional charge via USPS (uninsured) unless otherwise directed.
To purchase please mail a USPS money order in an envelope clearly marked Lot #1/Item #12 to M. Slaby at house number 201 on Ridge Road in the town of West Milford, in the state of New Jersey, one of the beautiful United States of America. The postal code is 07480-3112.
Round ceramic earrings for sale
Round ceramic earrings by Dorota.
Material: Glazed ceramics, hand-molded. Available now for $40.00. Ships free of additional charge via USPS (uninsured) unless otherwise directed.
To purchase please mail a USPS money order in an envelope clearly marked Lot #1/Item #13 to M. Slaby at house number 201 on Ridge Road in the town of West Milford, in the state of New Jersey, one of the beautiful United States of America. The postal code is 07480-3112.
Oblong ceramic earrings for sale
Oblong ceramic earrings by Dorota.
Material: Glazed ceramics, hand-molded. Available now for $40.00. Ships free of additional charge via USPS (uninsured) unless otherwise directed.
To purchase please mail a USPS money order in an envelope clearly marked Lot #1/Item #14 to M. Slaby at house number 201 on Ridge Road in the town of West Milford, in the state of New Jersey, one of the beautiful United States of America. The postal code is 07480-3112.
'Coral' necklace for sale
Corals by Sylwia.
Necklace made of cotton pieces with organdy and decorated with beads, suspended on cotton strings. Can be worn as a necklace, as a brooch or as a belt tied at the side. Available now for $40.00. Ships free of additional charge via USPS (uninsured) unless otherwise directed.
To purchase please mail a USPS money order in an envelope clearly marked Lot #1/Item #15 to M. Slaby at house number 201 on Ridge Road in the town of West Milford, in the state of New Jersey, one of the beautiful United States of America. The postal code is 07480-3112.
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