THE DAVYD WHALEY FOUNDATION AT TEN YEARS
“Make art, buy the art of others, help people whenever possible, and try to grow in consciousness.”
DREAMS OF SANTA FE TRAIL
“The house I dream of is gone. It caught fire decades ago, then someone else rebuilt it — same address, same general shape — but it became something my sleeping mind refuses to recognize. My psyche keeps the blueprint of the original, and it always returns to a floor plan that no longer exists anywhere on earth except behind my own eyes. It means the only place I can still meet my parents as they were then is one that has ceased to be. I find this unbearably sad, but also a mysterious gift. The house I lost to fire is the one house I am never able to lose.”
FINDING JIM
“We stood there at the graves of our ancestors; these people who died 120 years ago. What is there to say, after all, about people we’ve never met? And yet…we are them. They came from County Cork and County Clare, which already tells you something: two Irish traditions, two counties, brought together in the diaspora that flung people from the old world through Erie and Iowa and the Dakotas, scattering them like seed. They stopped here, in Perkins County, in a place called Seim. Down the hill from where we stood, the reservoir was calm and silver in the afternoon light. Seim is somewhere underneath it. That’s the kind of ending a place can have in the American West.”
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