Michal is proud of the fact that he makes films for women... Is he feeling alright?
Posted:
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 bringing myself to the point where I can actually listen to women, I want to show everyone that it's possible.
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 4: Evacuation
Janina describes how her mother's family had to evacuate their village when the Russian army invaded Austrian territory at the outbreak of the first World War, the massive devastation, and the amazing story of their return.
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 the second to last weekend of June, 2011, I had joined my fellow naturists at a gathering of the Naturist Society in rural Pennsylvania. The next day I left on a flight for Europe. By the end of the week I had unexpectedly met another naturist, a woman, who was destined to accompany me on a tour of Europe's great naturist resorts.
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.
Though I was born in Europe, I had been brought up from a young age in America, living in states as diverse as Nebraska, Ohio and Connecticut. I was taught American values and saw reality from an American perspective. She was born and raised in a village in Poland. She went to work in the nearest town. The nearest city seemed like the center of the world. The American perspective was not something she was ever planning to see.
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: Quote About Hope
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 Quote About Hope
I have yet to publish a pronunciation for the words "quote about hope."
Video of me pronouncing "quote about hope."
Definition of Quote About Hope
I have yet to publish the definition of Quote About Hope.
I'm sure it won't take too long.
References for quote about hope
I have yet to find good references for Quote About Hope
Use of Hope 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.
Frame #396
the sheriff came through. she says the numbers registered to a venista franchisee in downtown santa ana and thats all we can hope to get.
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.
"She's got the blues," your father would have to say, and it was true: every time she began to feel better, there was less and less hope that it would last; sooner or later, she would have to be attacked by status asthmaticus; there was no escaping its mercilessly tightening grasp, no way of preventing her bronchial tubes with their mucus-forming glands from swelling - what specific allergen could possibly have caused her pain? - when a breeze, a bad smell, or a change in temperature would send her coughing, and make her throat secrete its mucinous poisons, drowning her in her own mucus and consigning her to long hours of hacking, wheezing, and gasping for air - long, tiresome hours, which inevitably sent your grandmother back to bed for months - how depressing it was.
Your grandfather's greatest life moment was a grand farewell to litigation. When his beautiful, peasant wife was diagnosed with pulmonary emphysema, your father's father invested everything his family had into one grand suit: the culmination of his greatest hopes and dreams. On behalf of his sickly wife, he accused the governments of the world of negligence. He claimed that they were all guilty of doing nothing to prevent your grandmother from developing a serious and severely debilitating disease, one which was irreversible - one which was caused by the presence of toxic agents in the air!
What a shock it was! Alive and well one minute and dead the next: Jesus had no reason to consider his mother healthy, but nobody had told him her condition was life-threatening - on the contrary, her brief but recurring bouts of healthiness were arguments against it. Jesus had hope! Despite her chronic fatigue, Jesus had hope! Despite the air pollution being so bad, Jesus had hope! Despite the excessively ridiculous costs of respiratory therapy, Jesus had hope! Despite the fact that if he kept the window open, his mother would cough, and if he closed it, she would cough even more, Jesus had hope! And when she died all of a sudden, Jesus still had hope: he didn't lose it: he just realized, in order to make it work, in order to make it through life without losing one's mind, one must always be prepared for the worst: one must never be surprised. In fact, one must always make ready for sorrow and tragedy. Failure is opportunity misspelled.
"It was very big news back then, I assure you - and I'm not surprised that they found it. You'll notice that Treblinka has at least one of everything. It makes you never want to leave: one theatre, one basilica, one convent, one rotunda, and one homo erectus archeological dig. Now, you might not be ready to believe this, but, in the campsite - the homo erectus campsite - they found rhinoceros bones - and, whether or not you choose to believe, as the scientists have already assumed, that primitive man hunted rhinoceros, I hope you come to accept the simple fact that, at some point, we even entertained a wild rhinoceros in our midst. Can you image hunting wild rhinoceros around here? With a pointy stick?"
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.
ANDY: There was nothing good about it to begin with.
Should I not leave a sign? But what shall it say? Be faithful? Have hope? Love? Who will read my sign? Who will cross this desert? I am only kidding myself. I am the only one walking to Paradise this way.
– Title 3, Regarding a Dream, Chapter 1, The First Day, Part 1, Victory & Calendar Reform, Section 4, Self-image, Paragraph 5, Clauses 8-10
Unfortunately, I did suspect, as I do now, that the appeal to dignity is far less effective than the appeal of adultery. It was a good thing that Ms. Walters decided to play religious works for the second half of the show: hopefully, it stopped your mind from wandering. But perhaps I am being unfair: I suppose it's entirely possible, if the weeping Indiana had accepted your offer, that you would have played her, like a true Catholic gentleman, the Stabat Mater. But even if that were the case, I would still have my doubts that consoling the poor woman was the only thing on your mind. Your failure to mention this episode to me is evidence against you; it has also made me question your innocence in that other episode, one of the ones you actually decided to mention (as it happened so long ago): the now infamous "look."
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.
"She ran away." The girl pulled a picture of her sister from her pocket. "I show this to everybody in case they see her." Shephard admired the photo. "Her name is Pepsi."
"She's not as beautiful as you," said Shephard, "but close. I hope that's not why she left."
Davis asked, "Is that how you got into the fetish thing?" Sammy D shrugged.
"I don't know. I liked sex. I liked having fun. My job was simple. I always hoped someday I would find the right girl." She looked into Davis's eyes. The debutante turned away.
"I didn't want you to fall in front of the villagers. You want to impress them. If I had taken you straight into the desert, you might have been thrown onto the sand. I might not have heard you. The last thing you would have seen before dying of exposure would have been a camel's toe. Is that what you want? To almost make it?"
"You're right," said Clark. "I'm not a ladies' man. I'm comfortable in groups. I split bills. I sweat. I iron my socks."
The morning sun blazed through the open door. Mithra turned to face it. Sucking up her teary breath, she said, "High Harrah is out there. It waits for us." She turned to face Gog. He gazed into her eyes. He held up their clenched hands. Together, they looked to the east with great hope.
Shephard begged. "At least cut the trip in two. You don't want to sleep on the road. You want to sleep in a bed." The thought appealed to Clark's sense of hygiene. He was willing to consider it.
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 exits.)
LESBIAN: Yes, Ms. Jackson.
– ACT I, lines 1203-1203
LUKE: Kissa kissa kissa ha!
Kissa kissa kissa ha!
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.
– ACT I, lines 372-381
(LESBIAN attempts to enter the kitchen.)
LESBIAN: It's stuck. They must have blocked it.
MS. JACKSON: Go around.
LESBIAN: Yes.
MS. JACKSON: Hurry!
LESBIAN: I will.
– ACT I, lines 1044-1048
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
MS. JACKSON: When were you in Fiji?
LESBIAN: Not too long ago. I stayed in a hut just like the villagers do. It was part of a hotel on a secluded beach. It was absolutely gorgeous. The island is very touristy though - more than some of the others I've been to. The dance I'm thinking of was part of the welcoming ceremony. It occurs to me that despite being technically part of Melanesia, the dances of Fiji have much in common with Polynesian dances. There's that same emphasis on the word and the use of the arms and the hands.
ALICE: Where have you seen Polynesian dances?
LESBIAN: In New Zealand.
ALICE: Is New Zealand part of Polynesia?
LESBIAN: Yes.
ALICE: I didn't even realize.
FLETCHER: You assumed they were all tropical beaches.
LESBIAN: When I was on the islands of New Guinea and New Britain, I saw some very different dancing.
A story book full of short fiction stories. An interesting bedtime mystery. A fairy tale. Science fiction romance. Adult life. Uninspiring gay fiction. Horror.
My friends kept telling me I was crazy. They said no matter how bad it is in the city at least I have friends. In the village I would have nobody. It was true. I didn't argue. I didn't want them to know what was on my mind. I was thinking what good are friends if they can't protect you. I knew it wasn't their fault.
Further west the air fills with dust. Further west another ocean fills with fire. As the smoke clears my comrade and I face yet another shore. This one teeming with life. We wait. There may be hope in these masses. We watch the battles rage. We watch the battles die down. We land in a barren field.
China is full of noise these days. People everywhere. Doing everything. Anything they can to make it. I know there's a cost to the churning. Families split apart. Like the Limas. Ten kids all over the world. San Jose. New York. Vancouver. London. Paris. Tokyo. All born in Hong Kong. If the rich can't keep it together what hope is there for the poor. I've seen the peasant families on TV. Parents who see their children once a year. Until the kids run away from their grandparents and find work in a bar somewhere.
I don't know who decided to make first contact with the woman or who invited her down to our camp but that's where she ended up. She was staying for dinner. Her name was Mary. I thought to myself this is what happens to a hipster's child when he doesn't inherit a bed and breakfast. I wanted to ask Mary about her upbringing but she was too busy sharing with us a finger-painted monist philosophy. She kept mentioning the armature of the universe. She had taken some studio art classes otherwise I doubt she would know the word. She said the armature was penetrating each of us like an alien probe. I decided to beat her at her own game. I brought up the concept of the noosphere and Teilhard de Chardin's unification of consciousness. She had no idea what I was talking about. I hoped her confusion would cow her into shutting up. It didn't.
The orbits of Captain Orbitz as told and retold by trillions of Orion systemizens, indeed systemizens from across many a galaxy, never fluctuated from their purpose of helping Captain Tycho "Tych" Orbitz conquer his home galaxy. Tych was firm from the day he resigned his commision as a courier in the Star Alliance to the day he vanished into space. Many were afraid he would come back. Many more hoped he would. They thought he was out pirating somewhere with Lalunia, his pheromonically irresistible great-great-great-great-niece, or ruling a planet with the beautifully blue Sara Lee, or fighting the jilted queen of the Astrazeneca or playing chess with CAROline the computer that loved him. They didn't know he was dead. They had no idea he had died long before he had even resigned his commission. Before he hijacked the tesseract marking the beginning of his rebellion or piloted the stolen ship Nautilus into the singularity the man had physically removed his own dead body from the bridge. He had no choice. At the time the ship was scheduled to be inspected by Star Alliance sanitation officers.
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.
Help me keep the "Quote About Hope" page up and running...
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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