(C) Copyright SNOWbear Productions. T h a n k Y o u F o r V i s i t i n g


   The journey of life is all about writing our own experiences.  The meaning of life is - what you put your heart and soul into.  The purpose of life is - well, more than pleasure, more than procreation, it's about passing on the big picture take away moments and gems of wisdom and passing them on to others, to those whom you pray will succeed after you.

SEE YOU IN THE NEXT CHAPTER of my story.  We are moving from HERE to THERE. Plans for stashing our stuff and plans for getting there.


Garza Family Drawings

This is a photoshop picture of the five drawings I did of my daughter's family. 




   Mitharians called the Skin Tradition Barbaric.
The Tribal head leads out in the recital at the Gathering.  The #1 begins reading “the portion” on his left arm and then the rest #2,3,4,5,6,7,8.; follow, then in unison, they all say THE SENTENCE on their left arm.
*“Gather yourselves //together to recite//the words of//your kin that//they may not//be lost like the//books of the other//people about you.”
[yaher jannaja//ahera che logros//mal logra utd//jana jaja oj//kana al bana//am ull jal mal//loggah mutd kene//jama hera jan]=(Nasil in image above)
“Do not forget the gathering of yourselves.”
*Only “a portion” of
   Each tribe had a tattoo artist.  The artist was trained as a Tanner.
   The oral tradition was told to the “elves” Watcher Nolmithlon, and it was alright for him to write this interview down in their script.  The oral tradition of the NASIL was The History of The Judges and the Chronicles of the Skin.  The people of the desert called themselves THE NASIL, meaning “The Remembered”.  From their earliest of days, they marked their skin with ink.  The Nasil tattooed ink with a mallet and quill the names and history of their tribal fathers.  In the time it became the custom to “save” this skin art.  In each tribe, there was such an Artist, and he alone was it ascribed to the task of its removal as a Tanner.  The dead of the Nasil were buried in the earth or covered with stones on hidden in caves.  Those who had “their stories removed” were cremated afterward and their ashes were scattered “enchanted the land as holy”. 
   The Tanner-Artist kept all of these skins and sewed them together in a scroll fashion.  At the time of Gathering #1 handed the “Skins” over to the #2 next Tanner to keep for a year and rotated through the other tribes.  These Tribal Tanners were the collective historians of the Nasilian people.  This was the only example of their language.
////////////////………………THE SKIN……..//////////////////
*Symbol* Shadol Skull
   It was the seventh Shadol who gave the pouched skin of the first Judge to be added to this Tanner Scroll
. . . After his father, Bada`ul died his son Sha`dul took his skin.  The marked skin of his back was inked with the names of his fathers.
   Sha`dul was the first to keep the skin of his father.  He tanned it like animal hide and told his son Shedo`ul to do the same of his family.
   Shedo`ul took only the marked skin of lore and those before him did sew as one together, and then their bodies burned.
     THE Firstborn son had prominence.  Yet, it was the youngest son, if he had no male heirs that his line was ended.  If brothers had no male offspring it was their skin that was taken for them to be remembered.  The Tanner Scribe of “Skin Smith” was the Keeper.
   Tanners were the first person notified of an individual’s death so they could “read the body”. Tanner (Shaman/Priest/Historian)
THE LAST JUDGE:  The Nasil were forced to destroy their most holy relic.  It ended the cultural tradition of keeping their history in the tattooed skin fashion by by the third generation the Nasil were gone.





    One year, after her father’s passing, as she returned from homage to Lindol, Naylon was brutally beaten and raped by ruffians along the way. Upon recovering from being waylaid, Naylon shared with all those she met as she ventured back to Sinjar. But none aided in her recovery, though they looked upon her with pity. When word arrived at her brothers they were outraged at such treatment done against their most beloved younger sister. Each of them vowed revenge on their own or together upon Naylon’s behalf.
   The seven brothers set out for the Oasis near the city of Mithar, with Naylon their sister in search of those who violated her. Coming near to pools of the desert and seeing the Bedouins gathered outside their tents, Naylon whispered to Navon that these were the men.
   Seeing only one woman among the approaching group of men, the leader called out to them, “How much would you give for such a thing as this woman here?”
The brothers gave no answer as they drew closer. The leader then boldly shouted, “I would gladly surrender my bejeweled dagger. I had her once before and she would be well worth a second go, my friend.” The men had been drinking and were all agreeing with taking her by force.
   Though the seven brothers were outnumbered, as there were twenty-one Bedouins; they disguised their anger with laughter. Navon, the eldest brother countered with, “Let us play a drinking game, with the last man standing winning her as the grand prize instead!”
   To this, they all agreed with laughter and food. But unknown to the tent dwellers of the oasis, the youngest brother, Bellojon added a sleeping herb to all their strong drinks. As the laughter, food, and wine continued soon the Bedouins were fast asleep. When the last of them was down, the brothers made quick work of tying them up like boars over a spit for cooking. The following morning all twenty-one of the ruffians woke up cursing and screaming upon finding they were naked and tied up.
   The brothers remained silent as the captive men cooked beneath the desert heat. At the noon hour, Naylon rose from her slumber in the cool of one of the tents. Without a word to any of them, Naylon castrated each man, but watched him bleed out and die before she went to the next one. Her brothers stood beside her as she did this. When she came to the last man who raped her, he hoarsely whispered, “I am Rodoth, son of Baeroth and I swear that I alone loved you. I tried to save you from such wicked men as these I found myself among.”
   Without looking at her brothers and never taking her eyes from him she denounced his lies, “You were the first to thrust yourself inside me, encourage, and then praised the others for doing the same.” Naylon spat upon Rodoth and with great ease cut off his parts and shoved them into his screaming mouth. Along with her silent brothers, she watched the last of her violators perish by bleeding out. Afterward, Naylon said to her eldest brother, Navon, “Only God himself shall forgive them for I never shall.” Not for the men, but for the loss of their sister’s joy the brothers called the place “Sorrow”. Thereaf66ter it called The Oasis of Orid, (meaning the pools of sorrow). Leaving their homes behind all brothers all returned to Sinjar and each one, their wives and children took care of Naylon like she was a queen until she passed away fourteen years later.


The Watcher's Book of Books