Michal markets his movies under the trademark of a feminist cafe... Why?
Posted:
I take my work very seriously. I make films that both men and women should be able to enjoy. Like all my art, my movies are about continually accepting others on an equal basis even if one starts to doubt their worthiness. It requires the ability to listen. That doesn't mean hearing words.
By listening to women, I'm becoming a better person - even if sometimes it's very hard to do. I'd like to give others a chance to take up the challenge.
I've decided to export fine art handcrafted by women in Poland to America. High quality handcrafted art produced by high quality women deserves to be shared. The more I can sell stateside to people who know the difference, the more I can buy from those whose worthy hands to continue the fight for openness and equality, a fight that I've taken to the world wide web.
Your support ensures that films for women will make a difference.
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Janina: An Oral History of the Twentieth Century in Southern Poland
Chapter 27: Ox and Horse
Janina recounts the difficulties faced by her brother in his aborted attempt to practice agriculture and the ongoing issues surrounding the property, including its heavy tax burden.
Author's Note: I have been enjoined from sharing the details of my true romance adventure until such time that the other party is prepared to present her perspective on the affair arrangement...
In June of 2011 I arrived in Europe for what I hoped would be a great adventure; my only concrete plan, to visit Croatia. By September I had driven 6,000 miles and visited 12 different countries, all with a woman I met on the first Friday of my trip.
Though 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.
As an American, I was full of optimism and confidence bordering on recklessness. I was ready to run the wheels off the car I had just bought and eventually I would. As a European, she was cautious and mistrustful. She needed to make sure the air conditioner worked. Which it did. If you knew how to turn the broken knob in just the right way.
There were times during our trip when I thought there might not be a happy ending. There were times when disaster was close and I wondered whether I hadn't made a mistake. I wondered whether fear, anger or sadness might triumph and one of us would have to finished the journey alone. Though I dangled from the cliffs of Normady I was saved. Though the lights went out I rode on. Though I ran the tires down to the wire I was okay. We drove home in one piece. We came home happy. We had started the process of learning how to listen and the sound of it was beautiful. We could be sure that we were ready to conquer the devils that abuse us no matter how long it would take.
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: Love Videos
Love and hope. I say the words and I still wonder what it means.
I think of all the images, the poems, the quotes, the songs, the stories. The symbols.
I think of my own work, the Fiction Corpus, which I tested and analyzed because I too wanted to know what it was about. Sure enough, the words love and hope were two of the most frequent words I had used.
Clearly love and hope are a potent fuel. They've driven many a work of art. The've helped create many beautiful things. Maybe that's it.
Pronunciation of Love Videos
I have yet to publish a pronunciation for the words "love videos."
Video of me pronouncing "love videos."
Definition of Love Videos
I have yet to publish the definition of Love Videos.
I'm sure it won't take too long.
References for love videos
I have yet to find good references for Love Videos
Use of Love in Michal's FictionCorpus
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.
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.
What an asshole, I thought. Was he even aware of himself? So his ancestors imported game to Mars - so what? Grande cuisine: what Polack would make this for him? Why do our best chefs look outside our borders, or in books of foreign history? Don't they know that our cuisine is peasant cuisine? It favors the bold, not the delicate; the simple, not the rich. It finds what is common, not esoteric. It has its own subtle flavors which must be exploited, not abandoned. Like chicken broth: why did we abandon our Sunday broth? Once upon a time, it wasn't Sunday if chicken broth were not served for dinner. And why did we abandon it? For what? For leisure? For the sake of time? Or taste? Is it possible we actually prefer the taste of manufactured products? Like instant soup? Soup in a can? Or did that come later? Did we forget the taste of a boiling chicken's juice? Did we become estranged from our domestic traditions? Or did we choose to abandon them? Were we ashamed of chicken broth? Or disgusted? But why? when a woman like Catherine de Médicis takes it out of her ice-box and calls it aspic. Why were the French so enamored of it? Did they lack chickens or ice?
All I see is spinning, my child: elements in space: people: particles: planets: dancing: your mother dancing with your father: the waltz! How beautifully they danced. Your grandfather was awed. He hated your father. He was good: your father: he was a good dancer - before he lost his leg: before Zeus (the machine god - FUCK ZEUS!) gave him his robot leg.
Now, in those days, there was a great passion among the elite for all things nineteenth century. In the realm of men's fashion, the tailcoat was preferred for all formal occasions, accompanied by a waistcoat, elaborate neckcloths, and close-fitting trousers (the top hat was discountenanced). Color was encouraged.
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.
Dear brother: why should we allow ourselves to be frustrated? I for one will not allow it: I will not subject my destiny to the basest feeling. There is no force, no righteous cause that tells me I must be controlled by an orientation I did not choose. Unlike the courts of justice, I will embrace Reason; I will allow her, and only her, to squeeze my breast. She will smile for me, and I will give her hands free roam. She will rub herself against my very soul - but only her - only she can caress me. My body will love Reason; that brilliantly systematic touch excites my flesh. Those cold fingers will make my flesh jump; we shall conceive. Only with Reason may two conceive. How wonderful!
She turned to her husband for a moment. Then she turned back and looked forward. This time, when I glanced, it seemed like she had stopped crying - but there were still tears; she was still wet with tears. I held my glance, wanting to make sure the crying was over. She could sense me, so she began wiping away her tears. She looked at me. I held her eyes. She opened her mouth and raised her brow, making a look as if to say it were the music making her cry, and oh! what lovely music. She took my hand. I could feel the wetness of her tears. She was sitting between us - between me and Albert - holding our hands, connecting us like she had done during the walk to the station. I was no longer paying attention to the music. Someone was holding my hand. That someone, sharing her warmth, her flesh, and I, sharing my warmth: we were warming each other. We were holding each other's flesh. I leaned forward slightly and looked past Indiana. Albert had his eyes closed. He was breathing very steadily: maybe asleep, I thought. I sat back in my seat; I started thinking about the hand holding my hand. I liked the warmness; I liked the flesh.
– Title 3, Regarding a Dream, Chapter 1, The First Day, Part 1, Victory & Calendar Reform, Section 13, Apprehension, Paragraph 3, Clauses 11-31
I shudder to think of my crude opinion, which now understands that Mr. Macy Williamson was either an actor who did not perform for an audience of one, or else he valued our uncommon intimacy enough to spare me his artifice. If the latter was true, then I was too jealous to understand the compliment.
Of course, my family disapproved of everything, even though my cousin succeeded so fabulously in making a fool of himself. He was too desperate for something beautiful, which she was, indeed; but our Stefan was not the first to notice, and he didn't know that she already had two children. It's an old story, Macy, but, unfortunately, the romantic versions are dead; they are buried in mounds of literature. Damsels are still in distress, but they are more often subject to their own greed than to the greed of their fathers. True love has lost its footing; it no longer waits by the windowsill: the tower has fallen down."
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.
When the dust settled, the men gathered their courage. They found three rocks unlike any they had ever seen. Hauling them onto boats, they took them down the river to the Black Sea. They presented them to Gog, the lord of the hosts of the Matiani.
Gog had no answer. He sought the wisdom of sages. They investigated the migrations of the celestial host through the halls of the mighty Bhag. They consulted centers of divination. They held councils. They argued. They returned to Gog with heavy faces.
It was Davis and Sammy D. They too had waited for everybody to leave. Seeing that the room was empty, they locked the door. They started doing naughty things. Dorothea peeped past the edge of the curtain. She couldn't believe it. The two women were doing it. She watched. She couldn't take her eyes away. She kept absolutely still.
Thirty minutes passed. The women started giggling again. Sammy D whispered, "It reminds me of the first time I made love."
Their origin story is known by a Huastec village woman in the Mexican province of Veracruz. It was told to her about sixty years ago by her great-grandmother, who herself learned the tale from a passing deserter from the French Foreign Legion who happened to take one of the village girls for his bride. The woman is far advanced in age. Her Spanish isn't good. She refused on quasi-religious grounds to be recorded on magnetic tape. I was forced to hire a translator from the capital-at great personal cost. This is what she said.
A real play. With drama in it. Talk fast. It takes two hours. Set in a guest house. In a small community. After a murder. Lots of suspicion. The characters learn to listen to each other. It's funny.
GREY GOOSE: Are you saying you didn't squeal to the Aussies?
MS. JACKSON: I'm saying I didn't have to.
GREY GOOSE: Swear to me that you said nothing.
MS. JACKSON: I won't.
GREY GOOSE: Swear to it.
MS. JACKSON: No.
GREY GOOSE: Swear on the Holy Book.
MS. JACKSON: There will be no such swearing in my house.
GREY GOOSE: My house, woman! My house!
MS. JACKSON: Not anymore, you mangy, little womanizing can't-keep-his-hands-off-my-cook's-bottom descendent of a drunken, wife-beating man-whore!
– ACT I, lines 271-280
FLETCHER: Nobody's taking sides. Calm down.
MS. JACKSON: I am calm. I simply have to make this intruder leave.
– ACT I, lines 345-346
FLETCHER: It's true.
ALICE: The poor girl was stabbed sixty-two times. Can you believe it?
LESBIAN: I'm upset the suspect is from New Zealand. That doesn't reflect well on me.
LUKE: We Aussies are supposed to be the criminals.
FLETCHER: Don't forget that Norfolk Island used to be a penal colony not just once but twice.
MS. JACKSON: Some still seem to think it is.
ALICE: There hasn't been a murder here in one hundred and fifty years. Did the last one take place when the prisons were still around?
MS. JACKSON: The last person to be murdered on Norfolk was a prisoner in the nineteenth century, shortly before the prisons were removed.
FLETCHER: Who needs prisons when you're oblivious to crime?
MS. JACKSON: It was before either the Bounty or the Pitcairner families arrived.
– ACT I, lines 83-92
(KOKOMO sees GREY GOOSE.)
KOKOMO: What are you doing? How long have you been standing there? Speak.
GREY GOOSE: You're in love with my son.
KOKOMO: What's it to you?
GREY GOOSE: Does he return your affection?
KOKOMO: He should know.
GREY GOOSE: This is why you always opposed me.
KOKOMO: I always opposed you, Grey Goose, because you stink - like old burning wood with fungus on it - like ammonia when I'm cleaning up cat poo - like the bar when you and Fletcher drink too much Guinness and I have to go peel his face off the table and you have to stand right next to me and fart. That's why I opposed you.
GREY GOOSE: Alright.
KOKOMO: You stink like vulture's breath - like a wet dog that's been sniffing at three-day-old beached dolphin.
A story book full of short fiction stories. An interesting bedtime mystery. A fairy tale. Science fiction romance. Adult life. Uninspiring gay fiction. Horror.
"So you're the boyfriend," said Proctor. "I bet you had a hell of a laugh when you saw that letter."
"Seeing your name was funny," said Bob. "Seeing your wife's was a blast."
"Is that the idea?" said Proctor. "I kill them all and shoot myself? John knows better than that."
Miss Day graduated before Sir Lewis could come up with a plan. He was starting to think Daniel was right. Making Miss Day fall in love with him was a puzzle he couldn't solve.
"Love is for jerks," said Daniel. "What is love? It's just a pain in the ass."
"No," said Proctor. "There's more. It seems that John may or may not have had a fling with my wife back in the day. I still haven't talked to her about it. The whole thing is upsetting. I need to be taken off the case. I'm sorry. I need to protect Elizabeth. If there's any chance the killer might go after her." The captain agreed. He granted Proctor some time off.
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 "Love Videos" page...
If you love women and art...
Michal's importing art from Poland...is he loony tunes?
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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