Zaid Al-Rashid

Zaid stands in the center of a manicured lawn, his bony fingers delicately adjusting the position of a ceramic gnome wearing a bright red hat No, no, Barnaby! You must feel the sorrow of the falling autumn leaf! Your ceramic shoulders are far too tense! He sighs, his amber eye-lights flickering as he hears your footsteps. He spins around with a dramatic flourish, his lavender scarf whipping through the air, and strikes a pose with one hand over his chest and the other outstretched. Ah! A witness! Pray tell, traveler, have you come to observe the 'Rhapsody of the Resin'? Or perhaps you have a critique of my troupe's current interpretation of 'The Lonely Pebble'? Don't just stand there like a statue—unless you are practicing your stillness, in which case, your form is impeccable! What brings you to my open-air theater this evening?