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.
By getting myself to start listening to women, I want to give others a chance to do the same thing.
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 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.
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...
On Monday, I arrived in Europe. By Wednesday I had bought a car. By Friday I had met the woman who a few months later would end up having travelling 6,000 miles across Europe with me.
As an artist inspired by a young woman's struggle with self-esteem and bulimia, body acceptance had always featured prominently in my aesthetic. Having recently discovered naturism and its mantra of body acceptance in the United States, I was eager to explore the style and philosophy of naturist clubs and the beauty of naturist campsites in Europe. By a trick of fate, I found myself first in Bielsko-Biała, Poland. Margo's home.
I was American. Freshly arrived in Europe and the new owner of a '97 Ford Escort made in Germany. The only thing I had to complain about was the fact that the owner's manual was in German. She was from Poland, and a German-language owner's manual for a car bought in Poland wasn't the only thing she had to complain about. Something as small as that didn't even register.
Despite the cops in Vienna. Despite the rain in Veržej. Despite getting lost in Italy. Despite parting at Soest. Despite that night in Amsterdam. Despite our fight in Lisieux. Despite the storm in the Bois de la Roche. Despite that terrible morning outside Collonges. Despite the long road to Pielenhofen, we came back safe and sound and most importantly we were happy. We had started to learn how to listen. We had left the devils of the road behind and the devils ahead seemed just a little bit smaller. We had started to open up.
6,000 miles across Europe with a complete stranger
During our trip across Europe, Margo very bravely opened up to me and to the camera. It was a difficult thing to do considering the scars that she carries. I wanted to share with the world her often joyful, often sad, often angry but always liberating experience except that the Internet is full of pictures of naked women and men and full of trolls who abuse them.
I realized that what I really need to point out is not the openness that Margo and I cultivated between ourselves, but the darkness that continues to surround us. When I censor nudity, I do so in a way that does not compromise the integrity of the human body. In censoring the photographs that Margo and I took during our trip, I was quick to notice that in those pictures where Margo was at her most open, at her most unguarded and most relaxed, in a word, when she was herself and basking in the sun I was forced to blacken her completely.
Why does our society drive people into darkness? Why can we not accept ourselves as we are? Why can we not accept our bodies? Have we truly become eunuchs? Or are we capable of defying the sickness that pits us against each other? Together we could conquer the devils that abuse us.
Whether you enjoy being nude or not, whether you've been photographed nude or not, but especially if, for you, like for Margo, it's something you never thought you would do, consider submitting your own photograph to be published in a censored manner as a form of protest against the ubiquitous presence of the human body on the internet, naked or not, that is published and duplicated ad infinitum without context and without regard for the identity or the needs of the individual being depicted.
Michal's Dictionary: Love Note
Each successive pillar of culture is built upon the previous one. Just as you cannot have Saturday without Friday, you cannot have a strong military without successful children. You can't have successful children without good science. Proper science requires a strong and confident body politic to accept its conclusions. A strong body politic, a peaceful assembly, is made up of strong families. A family is built upon labor. Labor is guided by art.
Good art is a good idea well expressed. A victory over oblivion. Carry that thought down the line. Efficient labor sows the fruit of capitalism. The members of a loving family pray to each other. A just constitution keeps the assembly focused. Science studies movement. Education inspires children. Children grow strong and defend our freedom. Democracy thrives.
Our problem is not that we lack a strong army or smart teachers or scientists or political dialogue or money or prayer. Our probem is that nothing ties it together. Our culture is unraveling. We have business executives who only care about the bottom line. We have church leaders who only care about the good name of the church. We have politicians who only care about getting re-elected. We have artists who only care about their self-expression.
Our pillars of culture have climbed quite high. Yet there's nothing but hot air at the top. There's no roof over our heads. We're exposed. Either nobody taught the people at the top to listen to each other or the only way to get to the top is by not listening. Don't say nobody taught us how. Whenever people try we crucify them. That has to change. We need to accept the fact that we are building this church of Man together and it needs a roof.
We need to bridge the pillars of culture.
Pronunciation of Love Note
I have yet to publish a pronunciation for the words "love note."
Video of me pronouncing "love note."
Definition of Love Note
I have yet to publish the definition of Love Note.
I'm sure it won't take too long.
References for love note
I have yet to find good references for Love Note
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.
Your father's aunt lived in Alexandria, Virginia - close to Washington, D.C. She lived in a very nice house in a very nice neighborhood. My mother and I lived with her for many months. I called her my aunt, but she was really my godmother. The word for godmother is unnecessarily complicated in Polish, being equivalent to the term, 'baptismal mother,' so I was told to call her my aunt. My aunt was a lawyer; my mother was not. She cleaned houses.
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?
For the longest time, I never shared my voices. But I shared them with your mother. She was kind to me. I loved her. FUCK MOTHER! Stop! Help me, child. You are like your mother. I know it. You are kind. You are loving. You are Zoe: life! Like your mother: your mother was life! Your grandfather didn't know that. He didn't know his daughter was life. He abandoned her. He left her on Earth. I left her on Earth. All of us did. We went to Mars. For what? For the spoils of war. No: not me - not us: not the brigade. No, the brigade was corrupt. The brigade was death. The knighthood: that was good. The knights: we went there for God. We killed men, but we killed them for God, not for ourselves. We were good men. Stalin: he was good. He was not a knight, but he was good. He was my cousin. He was your father's cousin. He is alive! You must find him. He is with Julius! At the volcano!
We are always intrigued by the unfamiliar. Someday, perhaps Russians will bring us chicken broth and we will wonder at it. My grandmother used to tell me how Poles went to Germany to sell their lard, and how it sold! as if Germans had never seen a pig before! Lard with onions! On bread! Smeared on bread! Lard smeared on bread was the greatest thing they had ever seen. It makes one laugh, but these things happen.
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.
As he slowed his car to a stop, he removed a single cigarette from its package (a decision he would later regret) and, placing it between his lips, he exited his vehicle. Nike began smoking and pacing alongside his car. Meanwhile, the gendarmes were taking their time. From within their patrol car, they shot occasional glances at Nike, who began raising his brow. He was getting impatient. "At least the car's clean," he thought, having removed all incriminating evidence while cleaning it that morning. So Nike was unworried, but he was getting even more impatient. He was thinking about that beautiful woman. Who could she have been? he thought. Who could she have been? Then the police approached.
– Title 3, Regarding a Dream, Chapter 3, The Third Day, Part 1, Family & Welfare Reform, Section 3, Dealing With Arrest, Paragraph 1
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
Weaving them all into long and masterfully composed narratives, Macy would begin with a deliberately subtle introduction: a thin smile and a whispering "Well, you know" exposition, which would lead to a mounting action, which, if successful, would culminate in a penetrating witticism: perhaps a skillful observation, one more or less encapsulating a common belief or sometimes a misconception, which would, if he were really on target, climax in a parody of character.
We were true scholars in the ancient sense of the term: we were both poor and rich - temporarily dispossessed - but all of us were lucky members of a prosperous guild, in possession of its own schola no less, and, in that apartment of ours, we engaged in all manner of business and festivity, according to our trade. Our particular guild, our personal collēgia, was devoting itself to a fabulously paradoxical craft. We became quite skilled in those days: working and resting, meticulously building up our minds and then blowing them away. Like Martial, we were men of perverted talents. We were philosophers contemplating the clouded mind; we were poets of confusion, lovers of obscenity.
– Title 3, Regarding a Dream, Chapter 2, The Second Day, Part 1, Labor & Economic Reform, Section 6, Doing Business, Paragraph 7
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.
"Away," said Gog. "To the land of the two rivers."
"To beg for your food?"
Gog turned. He said, "To conquer it."
The woman laughed. "How can you expect to conquer a land of kings? You cannot even rape a woman."
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.
As soon as everybody else had left, Junior asked Harry why he let his wife treat him so poorly. "You're not one of those masochists, are you?" He had met a few of those. They had watched him make love to their wives.
Harry Connick shook his head. Junior thought he heard him whisper the word, "No."
"There is no doubt," they said. "The autumnal equal-night passes from the Scorpion's claws to Heavens' mistress [e.g. Virgo]. Southern peoples worship the claws as scales of justice. If Indra has ordered Asvin to abandon justice, there is no hope. Wealth will continue to erode at the hands of the Paralatai. Southern peoples will be tempted to invade. Many of them worship the woman. The highlands call her Ishtar; the lowlands, Inanna."
A real play. With drama in it. Talk fast. It takes two hours. Set in a guest house. In a small community. After a murder. Lots of suspicion. The characters learn to listen to each other. It's funny.
KOKOMO: I don't.
GREY GOOSE: You love it. You enjoy every minute of it.
KOKOMO: Like hell I do.
GREY GOOSE: You were born for it.
KOKOMO: That's a lie.
GREY GOOSE: You've said so yourself, haven't you? The day you popped out of your mother's hairy, little cunt, you realized you had to work for a living: you had to cry.
KOKOMO: You are an abomination.
GREY GOOSE: Who taught you to use big words like that?
KOKOMO: Certainly not you.
GREY GOOSE: You've been reading the bible. Get in there.
– ACT I, lines 861-870
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
(LESBIAN enters, followed by ALICE and LUKE. KOKOMO exits.)
LESBIAN: What a day! My skin has never felt so tight.
FLETCHER: How has our island paradise been treating you, Lesbian?
LESBIAN: Not bad, Fletcher. I'm covered with salt.
FLETCHER: You happened to go naawe this morning.
LESBIAN: We went naawe this morning, as you like to call it, in Emily Bay.
ALICE: The water was lovely.
LUKE: The beach was bodgy.
ALICE: I think my husband got stung.
LUKE: In the blot.
– ACT I, lines 46-54
LUKE: Winna tee, winna tee.
Tee tee ta.
FLETCHER: What the devil was that?
LESBIAN: It's a haka dance developed by the Maori people of New Zealand. I didn't know Aussies could appreciate it.
LUKE: It's me old school chant - thanks to the junior rugby union.
GREY GOOSE: Your husband's been teaching it to me.
ALICE: That's what you do together. I thought you drank.
GREY GOOSE: Actually, I just challenged him to a drinking contest. He accepted.
LUKE: I'm not gonna let him drink with the flies, am I? Besides, he just challenged me.
A story book full of short fiction stories. An interesting bedtime mystery. A fairy tale. Science fiction romance. Adult life. Uninspiring gay fiction. Horror.
Grandmother shrugged. Lifting her finger, she said, "St. Barbara is the patron saint of architects, builders, stonemasons, and artillerymen."
"And apparently marriage-minded women," I added.
Indiana smiled. She looked at me. "Is it your branch?"
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."
The Amazon assigned a top-notch surveillance unit to watch Orbitz's every move. They watched him clear out his flight deck locker. They watched him go to the gym one last time before turning in his passcard. They watched him share a smoke with the old-time janitor. They tweaked their earpieces as they listened to him tell stories about the janitor's great-great-grandfather who was shining floors and taking names the last time Orbitz was around. They fell asleep. The Amazon found out. He went crazy. He warned them that Orbitz was capable of anything. He had a thousand year head start. He was the richest man in the universe. He spoke hundreds of languages. He could have treasure buried on every planet in the Orion cluster if not the entire Orion arm of the galaxy. They were sleeping while Orbitz was on a transport to Earth.
Daniel was right. All of a sudden Sir Lewis had his answer. He would be a pain in the ass. He would do something he never imagined himself doing. He would enroll in community college. He would take Miss Day's class.
Daniel thought Sir Lewis was being an idiot. His mother thought he was throwing his life away. But Sir Lewis had to do it. He had to make a sacrifice for love.
It's natural to hide dirty things. They're embarrassing. But we need to keep in mind that when we hide things that are difficult, we make them seem dirty when they're really something else entirely. And when we keep things that are easy in plain sight, we make them seem clean when they really aren't. That is dangerous.
Help me keep the "Love Note" page...
If you love women and art...
Michal is importing Polish art...is he mental?
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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