What does Michal's calendar have to do with body acceptance - what is he thinking?
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People, like flowers, blossom over time. We also eventually wilt. Sometimes it seems like we have all the time in world; most other times it feels like there aren't enough hours in the day. In my experience, the closer a person is to the rhythms of nature, the better he usually feels. There's a power in nature that can uplift the human body. If there's a calendar that can keep us closer to nature, why not start sticking to it?
A calendar is a unique form of art. How we measure and organize time guides our society.
Consider the fact that the world is not a perfect sphere. The Earth doesn't revolve around the Sun like clockwork. It takes 365 days, 6 hours, 9 minutes and 9.76 seconds - if you're going by the stars. If you're going by the seasons, it's about 20 minutes shorter on average, depending on when and for how long you look.
The Earth is wobbling. It's also speeding up and slowing down. In another 2000 years the Gregorian calendar will be off by 1 day. That may not seem like a big deal, but remember that recorded human history is already about 5,000 years old and it keeps getting older. If you're a student of history like I am, you can appreciate a calendar that stays as close to the seasons as possible, so that when you apply it to history, you can be certain of any given date's relationship to seasonal change.
I choose to use a calender that shortens the calendar year to within 3 seconds of the mean tropical year, for an average 365.2424 days a year, which allows the vernal equinox to occur every year within the same 24 hour period. I think it's elegant and beautiful to be on time. The Earth deserves it - even if it is a bit wobbly.
You may not be prepared to adopt a different calendar as long as everybody around you is still using the one Pope Gregory reformed back in the 16th century. That's okay.
I'm offering you free calendar wallpaper so you can think about how important the calendar is as an art-form, not just as a way of counting the days but as a way of organizing our culture and giving our society a direction.
If you think society is heading in the wrong direction and needs a little help, you can try to celebrate Love Your Neighbor Day as I have done - by placing it between Saturday and Sunday - and seeing how you feel. You might feel power and freedom from having broken the cycle of Monday to Friday, Saturday, Sunday. I did. It empowered me and gave me a sense of peace that continues to fuel me to this day. Maybe it can fuel you too.
The HD Body Acceptance Monthly Poster Calendar, A.D. 2014
high-definition digital wallpaper featuring the intelligent and graceful Margo Rijnvis
Margo and I hope that this calendar will brighten your day and lift your spirits high every time you visit your desktop.
Download this monthly poster calendar for August 2014 with a black background
Help End Sexual harassment With Art
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Strength and dignity are her clothing...
Proverbs 31:25
Author's Note: I have been enjoined from sharing the details of my true romance adventure until such time that the other party is prepared to present her perspective on the affair arrangement...
Lots of people go on road trips. Not everybody criss-crosses Europe in 46 days. Especially not with a complete stranger.
Call it an accident. Call it divine will. I was never supposed to meet Margo...if not for one man's random criminal act...another abuse piled upon humanity by a fellow human. A robbery. A purse-snatching of a purse that happened to contain a passport. An assault on the human body. One of society's bad habits that I had come to fight as an artist working for body acceptance.
I was from America, land of the free...home of the brave. She carried the weight of Old Europe...domestic and religious poverties...stifled creativity. Anger. Sadness. Yearning.
Do unto others as you would have done unto you. But how to judge what we would want done to us if we've never been in somebody else's shoes? If we've never been abandoned by our mother, how do we treat somebody who has? Somebody who seems to constantly suffer the repurcussions of it? Margo and I had 46 days and 6,000 miles to try on each other's shoes. We had one car and one tent in which to hear each other's words. We learned to cooperate. We started learning how to listen.
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: August Calendar
The great thing about Acceptance calendar reform is the fact that I will never have to throw out a monthly calendar again.
But until the world has adopted this beautiful reform, and incorporated the idea of peace and love into the way we measure time, we will continue to throw out monthly calendars.
Therefore, in order to promote reform among those still enslaved by the legacy of Rome, I will have to make a new monthly calendar every year just to keep up with the absurd Gregorian system that I've already left behind.
I make these monthly calendars for you.
Pronunciation of August Calendar
I have yet to publish a pronunciation for the words "august calendar."
Video of me pronouncing "august calendar."
Definition of August Calendar
I have yet to publish the definition of August Calendar.
I'm sure it won't take too long.
References for august calendar
I have yet to find good references for August Calendar
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 #44
bieber and expedia got the message. jcpenney did not.
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.
#$*(!#$*(%&!@#(%)&!*(@#$&^%(!)@#*&%)(#@&%)(!#*%)(@#&%)(&!@)(&#%()@&#%()&!(@)#&%!)(*@%)(*!#@()%*!@()#*%!@#&%*(@&#*(%&#$()*&^()!&#$()%&)(@!#&%()@&#%()!@&#(%)&*@#()&^@$^@$%^$%^$#^#$^%#$%^#$%^@#$%#$%#$%#$%#$^#$$&#$%^$^@#$%@#^$%&%*&^)^@)^$^$%#^#@))^$^(^#((#@#@@(^^(#$^#($^@#$^#(#*%()#%#&%#%&)(#()%*()*%#@%#)%*(#$#$$()^#)(^#$()%#$(%@#$%()#*$^#$(^*@#)(%*#$)(^%*#$()^*#$#$^(^#$(^#$)@#$%$#&*%@(#*$@#)%($#%)#$*()#$%*#$@%#$%*()@#$$$$$$$$$$$)(#$)(^#($)%@)(*#$()%*!#@()%*#$()*^()@#$*^()#*$()%*@#$%@#$%@#*^@#(^#$!@#$%($^*@#$^(#$)%(@#$(%)@#($%(@(#$%(#$%)(#$^*)(*@$**^@#$#$*!@#)(%#(@$%*)(#*$)!(*#$%()*@#_)$%*@(#$*%()@##$()%*@#Miscellaneous dingbats: useless information: exploding junk: anger - FUCK MY BODY! it says. FUCK MY LIFE!
That's what my grandmother said. She said, "We used to say: it's the end of the world and half of America. Well, that is exactly what happened." She told the story of her grandfather: "In those days, after Yellowstone, very few people could go to America - the Americans didn't want anyone to go there. My grandfather went there four times - five of his eldest children were living there. The last time, when he came back to Poland, he found his wife and all the rest of his children suffering from typhus. They were all in bed or on the floor, moaning and half-conscious. They were twelve in number; my mother was the youngest. My grandfather did everything he could for them, and, realizing that the whole village was sick, he ended up taking care of his neighbors too. In fact, he buried eight of their children. Then he died himself. His family buried him."
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.
I stood there watching the train for a while. My mind was mostly empty. But there was a moment yesterday, a moment I was recalling.
– Title 3, Regarding a Dream, Chapter 1, The First Day, Part 1, Victory & Calendar Reform, Section 1, Cancer, Paragraph 4
We are at a train station. Sad people are always boarding trains. I am sad. But I'm not leaving: my friend is leaving: he's taking the train: he's not sad: he's not sad at all." I looked at Nike's face, looking out the window, and, waving to him, he waved back.
– Title 3, Regarding a Dream, Chapter 1, The First Day, Part 1, Victory & Calendar Reform, Section 1, Cancer, Paragraph 3, Clauses 5-10
Even my own body seems too large for me. That part of me that remembers itself: what it was thinking at that time, how it perceived itself and its surroundings - that part of me: that self, that constant awareness, that "I" - when that "I" enters my memory, it feels dwarfed by the size of my head, by the size of my face as I remember myself saying what I said, by the size of those around me, by their large hands and arms, large bodies of mass rotating around me.
– Title 3, Regarding a Dream, Chapter 1, The First Day, Part 1, Victory & Calendar Reform, Section 4, Self-image, Paragraph 1, Clauses 7-9
We were both diagonal to the shelf, and the left half of my body was directly behind the right half of yours. Suddenly, I became especially aware of our proximity. The feeling burst out of nowhere - it was muted, but still very powerful. I noted the connection between our proximity and the onset of the feeling. And then you moved. You shifted slightly closer to me, to the right, and then you shifted back. And the feeling reacted. It was responding to the movements of your organism.
– Title 3, Regarding a Dream, Chapter 1, The First Day, Part 1, Victory & Calendar Reform, Section 5, Inflammation of the Loins, Paragraph 4, Clauses 6-14
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.
"Even though he is a Beuern," Manfredo continued. He would put down his cup. "My ancestor came here from Normandy with Drengot." He would so emphasize the name that almost every time he leaned forward to spit it out, he would almost fall out of his chair. "He was one of Drengot's two hundred and fifty knights-errant." He would hiccup. "Beuern would be nothing if not for Drengot."
Ferrari would be constantly reminded that his name meant 'friend to all,' as his father would gesture to the friends of his gathered around the table. "Or," he would ask, "are you calling me a liar?" Ferrari would refuse to move until his father would sneer menacingly, "You will live up to your name. It's Greek and Greeks are servants. Get us another bottle: now."
The first time he returned, he could hear a flaut being played in the hall. Going around through the garden, he walked onto the back porch. In the kitchen, he could see his stepmother kneeling on the floor, grasping her enormous breasts. She was squeezing milk into a deep bowl. He cleared his throat. His stepmother looked up. Staring blankly, she made no attempt to lift the chemise gathered around her ample waist.
A real play. With drama in it. Talk fast. It takes two hours. Set in a guest house. In a small community. After a murder. Lots of suspicion. The characters learn to listen to each other. It's funny.
(ALICE exits.)
FLETCHER: If that isn't childish, I don't know what is. Am I right?
LUKE: Is what Kokomo said true?
FLETCHER: What do you mean?
LUKE: Does she think girls are better than blokes?
FLETCHER: That's what I was trying to refute.
LUKE: She said that girls are sexier.
FLETCHER: I imagine what she was trying to say is that, with women, sexuality is more physically apparent, as if that were a good thing.
– ACT I, lines 721-727
MS. JACKSON: What in the name of Christ is going on?
KOKOMO: You didn't tell me we were doing it.
GREY GOOSE: He didn't tell me either.
FLETCHER: I thought you knew. I thought you started the whole thing.
GREY GOOSE: I made a mistake.
FLETCHER: I wasn't even informed about the dishwashing machine.
MS. JACKSON: Somebody please tell me what's going on!
GREY GOOSE: Alright.
FLETCHER: Calm down, Mother.
KOKOMO: Please, Ms. Jackson.
– ACT II, lines 421-430
FLETCHER: You thought Norfolk had a checkered past. Being a former prison colony's prison colony is nothing next to Pitcairn.
ALICE: I would never have imagined it was like that. I thought it was a paradise.
FLETCHER: I'm writing a play about it - specifically about the woman who chopped off that man's head. She's an ancestor of mine. Maybe later we can go over a few scenes.
ALICE: I'd love to.
FLETCHER: If your neck doesn't still hurt.
ALICE: I'm feeling much better now, thank you.
FLETCHER: If you strained it, you strained it. I have to say, you have surprisingly little tension.
ALICE: It's my honeymoon. I've been having lots of sex.
FLETCHER: You shouldn't have reminded me.
ALICE: Why not?
– ACT I, lines 626-635
ALICE: Where is she?
KOKOMO: In what seems like paradise: Western Samoa.
ALICE: I thought you liked it here.
KOKOMO: I do. I can't help being homesick. Norfolk is small. Between the locals and the tourists, I think I've had enough.
ALICE: I understand.
KOKOMO: There aren't so many tourists back home. The islands are big. Half the land is forest.
ALICE: It sounds nice.
KOKOMO: It's a mixed blessing. Few tourists means fewer crowds but also less money.
ALICE: Do a lot of Samoans emigrate?
KOKOMO: They do. It's different for me. I'm half European. My father's from Vladivostok.
– ACT I, lines 830-839
GREY GOOSE: Not to mention this island's penchant for making the most grotesque of assumptions - never mind that. I did a terrible thing in burning down that house: I know it. I've been paying for it ever since. I'm finally sorry for doing it. I don't think I could've said that this morning. Something's changed. I don't want to be like that anymore. I don't want to do those things. I think the Australians should mind their own business; that's neither here nor there. If you didn't squeal my name to the police, somebody else did. I'm going to find that person - not to burn down his house - to talk to him calmly and rationally: to put these absurd suspicions to rest. Everybody deserves to hear the truth, especially the people you love. I was kicked out not because of my reputation or the looks you were getting in town. It wasn't because you thought I killed that girl. It was because I hurt you. I hurt you a long time ago and I've always been too selfish to realize it. I expected you to understand - even though I never properly explained myself. It had nothing to do with you. You were perfect. I loved you. I was afraid of being a father. You know my childhood - or perceived lack thereof. I was insecure. I was scared to death. I panicked. I didn't talk to anybody about it because I was ashamed. I thought that, if you knew, you would despise me for it. You were always so strong and fearless. I envied you. When your family came and asked me what was going on, I lied. I acted as if I didn't care about you anymore: as if I had lost interest. Nothing could've been further from the truth. I was an idiot. I was such an idiot. I'm sorry for that. I'm so sorry for everything. I won't trouble you anymore. Even if you and your friend want to move in together, I won't trouble you. File divorce papers in the morning. You can keep the house - and the sofa bed - and the mattress - and the comforter - and the dishwasher. You can even keep the cook - and the boy.
A story book full of short fiction stories. An interesting bedtime mystery. A fairy tale. Science fiction romance. Adult life. Uninspiring gay fiction. Horror.
In elementary school, during sex-ed class, the first of its kind, one of Steve O's more popular classmates, a boy widely recognized for his worldliness, had violently turned in his seat in the middle of the talk and had asked the boy behind him with complete fear and confusion in his eyes, "What the hell is oral sex?" Steve O had laughed, to the boy's utter embarrassment. The sight of the agitation had been comical. Never mind that Steve O had no idea what oral sex was.
A few months later the professor was again observing Bill and Mark going up the hill. He noted the difference in time. He calmly consulted his formula. He calculated a 95% chance of collision. There had never been such a high probability. The professor rushed out of the house. Again he almost tripped and fell on the tripod. He set himself up on the side of the road. He made sure the lighting was adequate. He programmed the continuous drive. He heard the sound of two engines coming down the hill. He couldn't stop smiling. He was on the verge of a photographic masterpiece. Better than the shot of the two cars that got stuck trying to get into the same tollbooth. This would be a series of pictures framed and hung in a massive room in a famous art gallery. "Dueling postmen" he would call it. "No," he thought to himself. "Large Postman Collider. An Experiment in Physics."
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.
Your purchases keep the "August Calendar" page up and running...
If you love women and art...
Michal is importing Polish art...is he non compos mentis?
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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