Michal's HeadlinesBaby Stories

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

Bridging the 7 Pillars of Culture for All Mankind...click & drag the logo to share this page

The answer to your needs...

If you need a glaze hardener or binder...

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

Baby Stories, a cultural reference

Understanding the world from all angles...

Michal makes films for women... Is he crazy?Filmy dla Kobiet poster

Oppression isn't something you can eradicate without learning how to listen. I don't just mean hearing words being spoken. To me, to listen to somebody is to consider their needs as if they were your own. That is a thankless task.Pointer

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.

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

Janina: An Oral History of the Twentieth Century in Southern PolandPointer

Chapter 15: The Bearing

Janina describes the barrel that her father attached to a set of wheels by means of a bearing, which they used to fetch a week's worth of water from the nearest potable well that was located a kilometer from their house.

Help Replace Passive-aggressive behavior With Truth in 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

Four days after I arrived in Poland, the largely Catholic country was celebrating Corpus Christi, complete with solemn processions down the street. Three days later I had made a solemn vow that if given the chance to express it, I would show love to a woman I had only just met.

I had come to Europe to document people practicing naturism. Preliminary arrangements had been made to meet with an Egyptian nudist visiting the Continent and there was some kind of Pan-European gathering scheduled to take place in Croatia. I had arranged for an assistant to come along with me to help with anything I needed, but when her passport was stolen the night before we were supposed to leave, my plans went awry. I decided on something less ambitious. I would visit a naturist sauna in the city of Bielsko-Biala, Poland which I had just found on the internet. When I got there, I met Margo.

I considered myself young and able, and being American I often convinced myself I was more than able. She didn't feel quite so young. Having grown up in Poland, what was and is still considered by many to be a poor country, she had the added burden of not only being disadvantaged but having it held against her. The difference became palpable when I realized I couldn't even properly translate into Polish the very American word, "opportunity." A chance? Sure. An occasion? Why not? An opportunity? Not in the book.

6,000 miles. One car. One tent. We started learning how to listen. We started learning how to open up. We started cooperating. Even when we were angry, even when it was so difficult that it didn't seem like it would turn out well, we stuck it out. We completed the trip and we came back happy. We had beaten the devil on the road. Back home more devils were waiting to abuse us. More anger. More fear. More sadness. This time we were prepared. This time we had each other and we could harken back to the joy and the trust and the suprise that 6,000 miles had created. We could remember what it was like to live in one tent.

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

6,000 miles across Europe with a complete stranger

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7/7/2011
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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:
Baby 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 Baby StoriesMargo on a trampoline

I have yet to publish a pronunciation for the words "baby stories."

Video of me pronouncing "baby stories."

Definition of Baby StoriesMargo on a trampoline

I have yet to publish the definition of Baby Stories.

I'm sure it won't take too long.

References for baby storiesMargo on a trampoline

  • I have yet to find good references for Baby Stories

     

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.

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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 #5338

i got the line taut. ive got plenty of rope to work with. i can set up a tackle. haul this baby in.

Sprint "Iphone" Case

18 November, 5:13 AM

Frame #783

apple caved. she doesnt have the strength to walk very far. now shes pretending like nothing happened. like she didnt storm off like a baby.

JC Penney

4 August, 11:02 AM

Frame #4746

the virgin mobile was chase's baby. and its being broken up into pieces.

Sprint "Iphone" Case

12 October, 8:41 AM

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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.

The night before the ball, I dreamt a very strange dream. I dreamt that my baby boo, my old girlfriend, whom I left before I joined the Lay Confraternity of the Pilgrim Church, was in my bed, licking my soles. She was doing it very humbly, as if she were genuinely trying to apologize for being a fool. Then, after licking them for a very long time, she reached for my testicles and suddenly, instead of being on my back, I was on my hands and knees, facing the opposite way, and her open palm was gently lifting up my testes and sapping them of their strength. I could feel my energy being drained. Suddenly realizing I was being weakened, I woke up. Almost immediately I grabbed my testes and yes - they were still there - thank God - but I truly felt that some of my power had been robbed. What a witch! I thought to myself. She came to me in my dreams to rob me of my manhood.

"What could it mean?" I asked.

Verses 100-101 from the chapter called Vows

"No, of course not," said Dulles. "But now that they do know, they're going to throw all their money into Panzer-Tank. He expected that - with or without the Protocol - but now that the Protocol's going to be ratified - oh boy, baby: watch out!"

"What about the Martians?"

Verses 187-188 from the chapter called Bohemia

There was nothing one could say or do in the face of bullshit. Whatever my baby boo had to figure out, she could do it on her own, or at least with somebody else - not me: I was too busy growing up: there was no time to lose. That girlfriend of mine was twenty-two years old when we broke up; we never really talked again. Perhaps I missed her maturation - who knows? Your father was more precocious.

Verse 427 from the chapter called Adolescence

One time, I successfully defended myself against a hooligan. In the middle of the night, I was once awakened by the stampings and shouts of a group of late-night rabble-rousers. They were climbing up my apartment building's main stairwell. Outside my door, they began ripping apart various pictures from the walls. They were cheap pictures, mostly posters, but I was very angry for being awakened. Going to the kitchen, I grabbed a large knife and lemon, and, going to the front door, I opened it. Leaning against the doorframe, I saw my provokers' faces. It was my upstairs neighbor's eldest son ripping off paintings from the wall. There was an older boy with him, along with his baby boo and some other ugly girl, perhaps the older boy's girlfriend. They all ran down the stairs. My neighbor was left alone. Ever so slowly, I began slicing my lemon. My neighbor came up to me - not too close, but close enough to be 'in my face.' My knife was pointed right at his gut.

Verse 315 from the chapter called Adolescence

I went to my baby boo. "Let's join the Confraternity of the Pilgrim Church," I said.

Verse 380 from the chapter called Adolescence

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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.

NIKE: Do you know how fucking important this is? Do you wanna fuck it up? Huh? Is that what you wanna do?

MAN: Who sent you?

NIKE: You'll fucking find out pretty soon if you don't let me in. Look: it'll only take a minute. You can baby-sit me if you want.

MAN: What's your name?

NIKE: That's not for you to know.

MAN: Alright: wait here.

– Title 3, Regarding a Dream, Chapter 5, The Fifth Day, Part 2, Science & Reform Schools, Section 14, Getting to the Heart of a Matter, Paragraphs 41-46

ANDY: Yeah, but then they would just get fat again once we release them. The truth is, I don't mind having so many fat people around. Because the more fat people there are, the better I look.

NIKE: Hey, and don't forget: there's nothing funnier than two fat people trying to make a baby.

ANDY: Hey, what do you think, Luka?

NIKE: Luka doesn't like it: 'cause he's chunky. Hey, Luka: maybe you're the one who's gay.

– Title 3, Regarding a Dream, Chapter 2, The Second Day, Part 1, Labor & Economic Reform, Section 12, Understanding Humor and Ridicule, Paragraphs 25-28

Indiana just came by for a visit. She didn't stay long: apparently, she came by to make a request. A few minutes ago, she asked me whether I could take care of her children tonight. I agreed. Apparently, according to Indiana, she made a deal with the babysitter, who wanted Friday off in exchange for working on Saturday - or maybe, that's what Indiana wanted - I don't know - either way, I'll be spending my night with Fabric and Olympia. Much looking forward to it, dear sister: I haven't taken care of children since our cousin stayed with us for the whole month of August - remember? when you were in Austria and our mother was constantly working on Ramapo? I don't think I did a good job then: I don't think I'll do a good job now, but, anyway, it must be done - for the sake of the greater good or whatnot.

– Title 3, Regarding a Dream, Chapter 5, The Fifth Day, Part 2, Science & Reform Schools, Section 6, Making a Request, Paragraph 1

Oh Andre, how could you forget such a thing? You must've thought it was in New York, but no: it was in Austria. I'm almost positive. And Olympia was there! baby Olympia! The child was by the fireplace. Oh, it was so long ago! She was just an infant. We were caressing her; we were all caressing her - taking turns; do you remember? I remember it so precisely.

– Title 2, Regarding the Romaniac, Part 1, Section 19, Conception, Paragraph 5, Clauses 1-5

And we were all quite oblivious to the fact that you and Indiana had just shared a 'look,' that Indiana had said something about the baby, something about the amount of attention it receives, that you had said quite innocently, 'I wish I had someone to caress me,' and that Indiana had caught your eye, that you shared a look, and that she said to you: 'Don't worry: someday.'

– Title 2, Regarding the Romaniac, Part 1, Section 21, Giving and Receiving a Look, Paragraph 3, Clauses 13-14

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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.

"What was your favorite?"

– from “Paris Is For Rapists, Too,” a ghost story featuring the effects of poverty

Nike could not harm this creature: this woman floating in shadow: this blur of something horribly sacred-a strange beast of different fabrics, white and black-a veil was it? on top of a disembodied head? a bright strip of white fluttering behind? a bird with a shimmering tail? What kind: a dove? A penguin? A canvasback pochard in flight-about to be shot?

– from “Paris Is For Rapists, Too,” a ghost story featuring a frank discussion of the beautiful world of Paris

"Don't!" She stopped again. Silence. Nike squinted. "Where are you going?"

She thought about it. She said, "I'm." She looked off into the distance. She stared vacantly. She didn't seem to find an answer. She turned back. She whispered, "I don't know."

Nike smiled. "You said you were told to come."

She ran.

– from “Paris Is For Rapists, Too,” a ghost story set in a forest in Paris where prostitutes gather

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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.

MS. JACKSON: What about my heirloom?

GREY GOOSE: What heirloom?

MS. JACKSON: The one you stole.

GREY GOOSE: I didn't steal anything.

MS. JACKSON: Don't lie to me.

GREY GOOSE: I didn't.

LESBIAN: I did. I packed it away in my bag. I have two tickets for tonight's flight: one for me and one for you. Come. We'll explore the world as your ancestors did: the English and the Polynesians. They went from west to east; we'll go from east to west. We'll show the lost and the lovelorn what true devotion means. We'll scale Victory Peak in China. We'll sail the Punjab. We'll get lost in Gargas Cave. We'll bathe in the hot springs beneath Mount Hekla. We'll catch a Broadway show. We'll do some shopping at Shinjuku Station. We'll do anything your heart desires. All you have to do is liberate yourself. Let your passions run free. Someday we'll return to your native land. It won't ever be the same again. Nevermore will you be shamed. Woman, you'll have made the entire world yours.

MS. JACKSON: Nameless Pain! How am I to deny a penitent husband - newly birthed in remorse, in truth, in love, and desirous of similar gifts from me, his lawfully wedded wife, who, for so long, and with so many tears, kept watch over this heretofore seemingly endless and vain gestation - yet relish this sudden appearance of life: this infant curiosity: this foundling whose love demands more than my adoption could ever give? Oh, Homo: a thousand hearts couldn't beat as strongly as you have made mine beat. This is my home. I can no sooner leave it than change my body for that of a man. The world is yours; go out there and take it. Please leave me in peace. I beg you.

LESBIAN: I'll go. Though it pains me more than female circumcision, I'll go. I'll go because I love you.

– ACT II, lines 357-365

(GREY GOOSE exits. ALICE and FLETCHER enter with scripts in hand.)

FLETCHER: Thank you for doing this. I appreciate it immensely.

ALICE: It's my pleasure. I love supporting new plays and new playwrights. Is this a comedy or a tragedy?

FLETCHER: I suppose it's more of a romance.

ALICE: Which part am I playing?

FLETCHER: You are Tera-ura. I'm playing Thursday October: Fletcher Christian's son.

ALICE: Cute name.

FLETCHER: He was named after his birthday, despite the fact that he was born on the third day of the week. I guess Wednesday October would've sounded more like a girl's name.

ALICE: Am I a Tahitian woman?

FLETCHER: You're not just any Tahitian woman; you're my ancestor.

– ACT II, lines 31-39

GREY GOOSE: Open your eyes. Do you know what I was trying to do here? Look at this place. It's a god-damn mess.

FLETCHER: You were only trying to help.

GREY GOOSE: I wasn't. I was trying to please Kokomo. That dishwasher wasn't a gift for your mother. It was a gift for her.

FLETCHER: Don't expect me to believe Mother's story that all this time you've been chasing after the cook.

GREY GOOSE: Things changed the moment your mother convinced herself that she's falling in love with that Kiwi.

FLETCHER: Lesbian is not going to stay here. I doubt Mother would just pack up and leave. All we have to do is be patient. We have to ride this thing out without losing our heads and without letting anybody catch the two of them going at it - whatever the hell it is they do together, which can't be much. They probably just kiss and talk about running off to get married in Spain. Regardless, we can't afford to take any chances - not with our reputation as low as it is.

GREY GOOSE: I argued with her today - not because it was necessary - because I desired it. I shouted what I should never murmur without her permission.

FLETCHER: What are you talking about?

GREY GOOSE: I called her a whore - not because I was roping Luke -because she turned me on. It made me angry to feel so helpless. I argued with Kokomo so that I could be close to her: so that I could breathe in her scent. That's all this stupid dishwasher business was about. Did I say it was a gift? It wasn't a gift. It was a ploy.

FLETCHER: Stay away from her.

– ACT I, lines 1237-1246

FLETCHER: There was a girl who tried to kill me. She came after me with an axe. It reminded me of Susannah's story.

ALICE: What made you want to write a play about it?

FLETCHER: Mull.

ALICE: I'm sorry?

FLETCHER: Isn't that what you Australians like to call it?

ALICE: I guess.

FLETCHER: It's the modern artist's drug of choice.

ALICE: Even here on Norfolk?

FLETCHER: There was a time when every other artistically-inclined tourist I met asked me about it.

ALICE: Whether you had any?

– ACT II, lines 101-110

FLETCHER: Good. My mother's been trying to stop her. I don't blame her for that. I feel sorry for the poor girl. Her story is a sad one. Kokomo's grandmother was raped by the Japanese while they were occupying the island of Upolu in Western Samoa. That's where Kokomo was born. Her mother was the product of that horrendous crime. Though they were the victims, both mother and child were ostracized by their tribe. Even after her mother had grown up, only the Catholic priest would take pity on them. Kokomo was the product of that pity. Eventually, she went to American Samoa to work as a prostitute for the tuna canners. One day, she came home with fifty thousand dollars and a baby. It turned out her pimp had threatened to kill her if she didn't have an abortion. Unfortunately, Kokomo made the ill-advised decision, once the baby came, to run away with the pimp's money. He ended up tracking her down. When he showed up at the mother's hut, Kokomo, in a state of pure shock, burned the money. The guy flipped out, killed her mother, slit the baby's throat, burned down the hut and forced her onto his boat. On their way to Pago Pago, they were hijacked by a bunch of pirates from Fiji. They killed the pimp and then realized he didn't have anything worthwhile except for the girl. While they stood around, trying to decide what to do, Kokomo offered them the greatest sex they would ever have in their entire lives: on the condition that they release her. They figured: why not? They could do whatever they wanted with her no matter what happened. Kokomo blew their minds. They were so satisfied, they stuck to the deal. They let her go in Fiji, where they begged her to stay and work as a prostitute. Kokomo agreed to do it, but only until she made up the fifty thousand dollars that she burned: the money that killed her mother and her newborn baby.

– ACT I, line 770

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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.

Obama took it the hardest. Any sound, any silent white face staring at him made him run around the corner. He never stopped talking about leaving. He wanted to go to France. Never mind that he didn't speak a word of French. He was obsessed with the idea of being in Paris. As far as I know he's there now. He just disappeared one day. If Barack knew something he never told me.

– from “A Black Man in Moscow,” an inspirational story that represents real life for some people, though the details are fictional

I opened the school the next day. There were birds nesting in the furnace. I thought it was a good sign. I left them there for the sake of the students. I wanted us to remove them together as a way of bonding. No students came. I sat in the room by myself until the afternoon with nothing but chirping to keep me company. I asked the headman if the villagers knew I had come. He said he would take care of it.

– from “A Black Man in Moscow,” an inspirational story that describes the reality of this planet no matter who you are

I learned later that the headman of the village had asked that I be replaced. He had claimed to the Ministry that I was crazy. That I talked to myself. That all the parents in the village were afraid to leave their children with me. I proved him wrong. If not for Putin and my three pupils, I would've been packing my bags for Moscow that very weekend. I would have lived in the village for all of two weeks instead of almost twenty years. I would never have stayed to teach a community of children how to grow up. I would never have married a local Russian girl. I would never have become the village headman. I would never have run for mayor.

– from “A Black Man in Moscow,” an inspirational story that represents something true, though the details are not factual

Love is the answer...

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

Are you a eunuch?

The art show that defies abuse

St. Sebastian

Wall art symbolizing strength and protest

St. Sebastian was a member of the Roman Emperor's praetorian guard who had the audacity to teach Christian values while on the job. I think active duty American military men and women who don't vote or who don't publicly express a political opinion because of the uniform are either being idiotic or are being cowed by the threat of punishment from a superior. Either way, they're eunuchs. My purpose in creating the St. Sebastian Series is to put the flesh and face of the true soldier front and center. The good soldier puts his mission ahead of himself. He often ends up dead. The true soldier knows a bad mission when he sees one and he isn't afraid to say it. Saint Sebastian was not a cow, despite what clever people would have you believe. Saint Sebastian is a patron saint for all protestors who face the arrows of the mob for speaking out.

A miniature portrait of MichalMargo at the beach

Help me maintain the "Baby Stories" page alive...

If you love women and art...

Michal is exporting art...is he meshugge?

Michal's Sales Pitch
Lot 1: Silesian Handicrafts

  1. T-shirt fundraiser for sale

    Handcrafted t-shirt fundraiser for sale.

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

    From a set of, I believe, twenty produced by Margo and given out to a portion of the last 20 women to finish the 20th anniversary Fiat Road Race in Bielsko-Biała, cf. the movie. This is the last one left in it's original packaging and my supporters - like the poor women of Bielsko - are going to have to fight for it. Whoever invests the most money with me, and who lets me borrow it to invest in the next lot, will not only be rewarded with some beautiful piece of art, but will get this priceless t-shirt as a reward for being my top supporter. $1000.00 or best offer. Remember to authorize me to hold the sum as credit against a future purchase and to authorize me to borrow against it.

    To purchase please mail a USPS money order in an envelope clearly marked Lot #1/Item #1 to M. Slaby at house number 201 on Ridge Road in the town of West Milford, in the state of New Jersey, one of the beautiful United States of America. The postal code is 07480-3112.

  2. Felt handbag for sale

    Handcrafted felt handbag for sale.

    Felt bag by Dorota. Pointer

    Entirely hand-sewn. Base: polyester felt, 100% PE. Motif: South American woolen yarn, dyed, 100% wool. Hand-worked with a needle. Unique and inimitable design. Inside: cotton fabric, closes with zipper, inside pocket. Available now for $220.00. Ships free of additional charge via USPS (uninsured) unless otherwise directed.

    To purchase please mail a USPS money order in an envelope clearly marked Lot #1/Item #2 to M. Slaby at house number 201 on Ridge Road in the town of West Milford, in the state of New Jersey, one of the beautiful United States of America. The postal code is 07480-3112.

  3. Decorative collar for sale

    Handcrafted decorative collar for sale.

    Decorative collar by Zuzanna. Pointer

    Ethnic layered cloth jewelry constructed on a cotton base and adorned with ribbons, tassels, and a yellow fringe. Fastened on the side with 11 buttons, fitted entirely with a pleasant lining. The style is an Indo-Asian-African multinational color combination. The collar is very extravagant and an extraordinary addition to any clothing, guaranteed to attract attention. Just a simple dress and a unique image is ready. Dry-cleaning recommended. Available now for $200.00. Ships free of additional charge via USPS (uninsured) unless otherwise directed.

    To purchase please mail a USPS money order in an envelope clearly marked Lot #1/Item #3 to M. Slaby at house number 201 on Ridge Road in the town of West Milford, in the state of New Jersey, one of the beautiful United States of America. The postal code is 07480-3112.

  4. Seamless handbag for sale

    Handcrafted seamless handbag for sale.

    Handbag by Sylwia. Pointer

    Handmade from felted all-natural Australian and South American wool. Entirely felted, seamless. Finished with a white lining, inside is a small pocket. Lining is sewn and stitched in by hand. Available now for $180.00. Ships free of additional charge via USPS (uninsured) unless otherwise directed.

    To purchase please mail a USPS money order in an envelope clearly marked Lot #1/Item #4 to M. Slaby at house number 201 on Ridge Road in the town of West Milford, in the state of New Jersey, one of the beautiful United States of America. The postal code is 07480-3112.

  5. Patchwork quilt for sale

    Handcrafted patchwork quilt for sale.

    Patchwork quilt by Alicja. Pointer

    Bedspread made of cotton and polyester material. Inserted with polyester lining. 90 by 70 cm. Available now for $120.00. Ships free of additional charge via USPS (uninsured) unless otherwise directed.

    To purchase please mail a USPS money order in an envelope clearly marked Lot #1/Item #5 to M. Slaby at house number 201 on Ridge Road in the town of West Milford, in the state of New Jersey, one of the beautiful United States of America. The postal code is 07480-3112.

  6. Nuno-felt shawl for sale

    Handcrafted nuno-felt shawl for sale.

    Shawl by Sylwia. Pointer

    Scarf made ​​with the nuno felting technique (wet felting fibre into a silk gauze) using South American wool. Two-sided scarf with latticework at the ends. Wholly in the colors red, black, green in an abstract pattern. Available now for $100.00. Ships free of additional charge via USPS (uninsured) unless otherwise directed.

    To purchase please mail a USPS money order in an envelope clearly marked Lot #1/Item #6 to M. Slaby at house number 201 on Ridge Road in the town of West Milford, in the state of New Jersey, one of the beautiful United States of America. The postal code is 07480-3112.

  7. Clara the doll for sale

    Handcrafted clara the doll for sale.

    Clara by Alicja. Pointer

    Clara loves roses and greenery, adores tormenting spiders with long legs and sleeping soundly in the afternoon. Cuddly toy made of cotton and polyester, stuffed with polyester lining. Available now for $70.00. Ships free of additional charge via USPS (uninsured) unless otherwise directed.

    To purchase please mail a USPS money order in an envelope clearly marked Lot #1/Item #7 to M. Slaby at house number 201 on Ridge Road in the town of West Milford, in the state of New Jersey, one of the beautiful United States of America. The postal code is 07480-3112.

  8. Noah the doll for sale

    Handcrafted noah the doll for sale.

    Noah by Alicja. Pointer

    Noah doesn't know what to like and what not to like but keeps wondering and thinking about it. Cuddly toy made of cotton and polyester, stuffed with polyester lining. Available now for $70.00. Ships free of additional charge via USPS (uninsured) unless otherwise directed.

    To purchase please mail a USPS money order in an envelope clearly marked Lot #1/Item #8 to M. Slaby at house number 201 on Ridge Road in the town of West Milford, in the state of New Jersey, one of the beautiful United States of America. The postal code is 07480-3112.

  9. Black suspenders for sale

    Handcrafted black suspenders for sale.

    Black suspenders by Zuzanna. Pointer

    Two-sided suspenders from black material with a rose motif on one side and striped cotton on the other. Connected by a leather triangle. Adjustable length. Hand washing in cold water recommended. Available now for $50.00. Ships free of additional charge via USPS (uninsured) unless otherwise directed.

    To purchase please mail a USPS money order in an envelope clearly marked Lot #1/Item #9 to M. Slaby at house number 201 on Ridge Road in the town of West Milford, in the state of New Jersey, one of the beautiful United States of America. The postal code is 07480-3112.

  10. Orange suspenders for sale

    Handcrafted orange suspenders for sale.

    Orange suspenders by Zuzanna. Pointer

    Two-sided suspenders made of denim and orange material with a Polish floral folk design. Connected by a leather triangle. Adjustable length. Hand washing in cold water recommended. Available now for $50.00. Ships free of additional charge via USPS (uninsured) unless otherwise directed.

    To purchase please mail a USPS money order in an envelope clearly marked Lot #1/Item #10 to M. Slaby at house number 201 on Ridge Road in the town of West Milford, in the state of New Jersey, one of the beautiful United States of America. The postal code is 07480-3112.

  11. Green suspenders for sale

    Handcrafted green suspenders for sale.

    Green suspenders by Zuzanna. Pointer

    Two-sided suspenders made of denim and green material with a mountain folk design. Connected by a leather triangle. Adjustable length. Hand washing in cold water recommended. Available now for $50.00. Ships free of additional charge via USPS (uninsured) unless otherwise directed.

    To purchase please mail a USPS money order in an envelope clearly marked Lot #1/Item #11 to M. Slaby at house number 201 on Ridge Road in the town of West Milford, in the state of New Jersey, one of the beautiful United States of America. The postal code is 07480-3112.

  12. Felt earrings for sale

    Handcrafted felt earrings for sale.

    Felt earrings by Dorota. Pointer

    Material: South American woolen yarn, dyed, 100% wool. Hand-worked with a needle. Pendant of anti-allergenic metal. Available now for $40.00. Ships free of additional charge via USPS (uninsured) unless otherwise directed.

    To purchase please mail a USPS money order in an envelope clearly marked Lot #1/Item #12 to M. Slaby at house number 201 on Ridge Road in the town of West Milford, in the state of New Jersey, one of the beautiful United States of America. The postal code is 07480-3112.

  13. Round ceramic earrings for sale

    Handcrafted round ceramic earrings for sale.

    Round ceramic earrings by Dorota. Pointer

    Material: Glazed ceramics, hand-molded. Available now for $40.00. Ships free of additional charge via USPS (uninsured) unless otherwise directed.

    To purchase please mail a USPS money order in an envelope clearly marked Lot #1/Item #13 to M. Slaby at house number 201 on Ridge Road in the town of West Milford, in the state of New Jersey, one of the beautiful United States of America. The postal code is 07480-3112.

  14. Oblong ceramic earrings for sale

    Handcrafted oblong ceramic earrings for sale.

    Oblong ceramic earrings by Dorota. Pointer

    Material: Glazed ceramics, hand-molded. Available now for $40.00. Ships free of additional charge via USPS (uninsured) unless otherwise directed.

    To purchase please mail a USPS money order in an envelope clearly marked Lot #1/Item #14 to M. Slaby at house number 201 on Ridge Road in the town of West Milford, in the state of New Jersey, one of the beautiful United States of America. The postal code is 07480-3112.

  15. 'Coral' necklace for sale

    Handcrafted 'coral' necklace for sale.

    Corals by Sylwia. Pointer

    Necklace made ​​of cotton pieces with organdy and decorated with beads, suspended on cotton strings. Can be worn as a necklace, as a brooch or as a belt tied at the side. Available now for $40.00. Ships free of additional charge via USPS (uninsured) unless otherwise directed.

    To purchase please mail a USPS money order in an envelope clearly marked Lot #1/Item #15 to M. Slaby at house number 201 on Ridge Road in the town of West Milford, in the state of New Jersey, one of the beautiful United States of America. The postal code is 07480-3112.

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