Richard Oh

ACT 1 Scene One. Midnight. At the studio. The Maestro, with a white singlet on, wrapped round in sarong, stands before a blank canvas, staring hard. A paint brush in one hand and in another a cigar, whose smoke curls up and evaporates into the cone of light that is cast down from an over-hanging [...]

I’ve always dreaded traveling. Don’t get me wrong though. I’m not some larded ass who prefers the familiarity of one place to another or some loon with a developed case of phobia for strangers. I’m way more ahead than any one of these fellows. I love the tingling serenity of the cabin, peering out through [...]