Rich Zubaty lives on the cliffs of Molokai above the leper colony surrounded by oil paintings cluttering his small bedroom. His biggest problem is keeping the ants from eating his wet paint. (Don't mention "ants" anywhere near him.) He takes the ferry to Maui once a month for supplies and sleeps in the homeless shelter when he is in Lahaina. He likes hunting, fishing and playing games with small children - doesn't like dogs, messianic Christians or playing games with willful women.
He is the author of four published books that corporations won't distribute and the father of two grown children he never sees. He is a grumpy old hermit who prides himself on never having worked for a corporation in his life. His credo is: all art is religious art, and there is good art or bad art according to whether it brings you closer to the mysteries of God, or closer to buying a new car. His only apparent friend is a shark named Audrey who he feeds by tossing chicken guts over the cliff. He professes to be a gifted writer and a mediocre painter, but the world of commerce has drawn an opposite conclusion. What does he know?
Biography provided by the author, February 2003.