richard metcalf: moves through the land like a warm breeze, an energy, an all enveloping contradiction like floating molten lead but at blood temperature, he senses all like an anxious springbock,he blends into the weather and his pulse can drop to 7 beats per hour, he displays the emotion of a tea towel but moves deeply beneath the surface, just like the heaving collosal unmapped depths of the great oceans, in his spare time likes galleries, good food and cycling
