"the feet of Bhagavan are everywhere. So where can we gather except at his feet?
Time and space are no barriers to the gathering of hearts." Sri Ramana Maharshi

Celebrating the life of David LaChapelle

Celebrating the Life of David LaChapelle: Visionary teacher, see-er of souls, wisdom keeper and devoted follower to the great stillness. Friend to many. Dream coach, author, publisher and speaker. Chanter, painter, builder, philosopher and patriarch. His body let go. His gifts live on...

Submissions to this blog greatly appreciated:

To post your entry:
- email text and/or photos to ananda@jeffnet.org
(specify "for blog" and specify if anonymous or not) -or-
- comment in two places directly on blog: on left-hand panel or end of each post

Wednesday, October 28, 2009

Recent studio time

earrings from some recent studio time
turquoise copper and silver
gold leaf paper matchbox drawer
inspiration: thank you gift for support from city dweller in Manhattan; something from the rusty high-altitude former mining train town of Silverton... she liked 'em lots. Santa fe beauty came as my reward soon after... something rustic and clay sented in the air...

Behind the Scenes at Silverton studio

Older pictures, Silverton home studio getting ready for August memorial

Countdown for packing truck to drive to California
Inner photo of David group in Canyon Lands

(names I know: Randy, Diane, Tom, Shoshannah, David, Sue and Shar)

Pictures dusted, centered and ready to get craddled

Card fairies all done with hundreds of hand packaged cards with David's images. Let me send you some - still available, $3.75 each, or packets. They're tingly in a cosmic David way. Include postage please. Thank you for your orders so far, I appreciate your support.

And 150 memorial gift packets coming together, thank you mom!

Tears from a deep place, thoughts...

How to be with all these things in one body, in one heart... joy for your release, grief for my loss, fist-shaking at God, gratitude for your life....

How to let go, I got to love you like crazy only to have your life veer away from mine

What to do with the questions I have for the day I can sit face to face with God

The songs we sung, your voice

The field created in your presence, unique, un-reproducable.... life blood for so many of us

Your heart still holding mine but the distance makes that easy to forget

The finality, no going back, to the day the infection set in.... reverse the events that started cancer growth in the first place

So many things I cant touch, let alone change about the trajectory, or your life circumstances that set the conditions.

The loss of our friendship, always you felt like family, my best friend

Im fine so much of the time, and in the taxes and legal paperwork I loose sight of the person you are. Your name becomes associated with the mountain of work I wonder if I'll ever summit...

But you are the BE- ing, the life I no longer get to share... That is painfully clear some times more than others, today especially... I've just come from crying deep and hard for the fullness of the loss

When will you just walk through the door, when will we pick up conversations begun, never revisited?

Where does your soul live now that you are free from the body?

How do i know you still love me? or hold me?

No going back, unbearable...

I love you

Oct 28, 2009

Tuesday, October 27, 2009

inspiration in Boulder, weekend

a.foley photo 2009

a.foley photo 2009

a.foley photo 2009

a.foley photo 2009

Painted 1980's in Boulder

Thought some of you may enjoy this painting. If anyone knows the artist (Boulder folks?) I can credit her here. Many thanks

Saturday, October 24, 2009

Photography Orgasm: Roaptrip to Santa Fe

copyright a.foley 2009

copyright a.foley 2009

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copyright a.foley 2009

copyright a.foley 2009

copyright a.foley 2009

copyright a.foley 2009

copyright a.foley 2009

copyright a.foley 2009

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copyright a.foley 2009

copyright a.foley 2009

Wednesday, October 14, 2009

RIP David

Photo I took at Yosemite memorial ...
...how's that for being touched by an influencial life

Reid Tippets of Alaska

Karsten and Drake of Ashland OR

Earlier post: Drakes birth announcement and David dream from Karsten

David student carries her practice, shares with others

The Rita Lila: a Western Yogini's Journey to Bliss by Rita Ann Shankara is the story the author meeting her teacher, Basil (David La Chapelle) in Ashand, OR in 2003 and the unfolding journey his teachings in her life offered. Over the last several years, she's developed a strong spiritual practice and found remarkable balance in her life from the headaches, insomnia and habitual patterning that earlier kept her from experiencing full radiance and service in the world.

Recent Interview with Rita Ann on YouTube

click on book cover for link to buy book

Tuesday, October 13, 2009

Sri Om Ma

Sri Aum


The Crown

Interesting ...

YouTube Video

Remember singing Halleluiah with David

A fun little video for you:

Amazing guitar version of Canon

Sunday, October 11, 2009

dream on evening of birthday

I had a dream about David -- Very tender, saying that this time around (he was back from heaven) he would just allow life to occur (he wouldn't fight it; even the cancer). It was very sweet
teaching --allowing life to occur. Love, Cynthia

A David Story of Ancestors

The Woman and Her Special Birthday:
a David story of Ancestors
by Lisa van de Water

This Story is not a parable, it is based on a real event. In January 2008 some friends and I went to Hawaii for my birthday. David and Ananda came, and he worked with me first on some current fear patterns and then on my ties to my parents.

I did not have to tell David where my ancestors had lived, he knew, and he zeroed in on a place in my mother’s lineage. It was one of the most astounding moments that I had with him (or anyone else). We were not talking about my parents at all, then ‘out of the blue’ (as it seemed to me) he asked if my mother had ancestors in a particular place. I replied, “Well, as a matter of fact, yes.”

We went on from there and visions of my ancestors started appearing, though it was not until I started receiving this Story now that I got all the detail. The exchange did not happen exactly like this, and much was not in words. David and I worked on my mother’s lineage, but as this Story came to me, it included my father as well. Everything after the vision of the ancestors is new, coming slowly in pictures as these Stories do. The chant at the end, of course, is “Om Namah Sivaya”.

Lisa Van de Water


Once there was a woman who was having a special birthday. She wanted to celebrate in a warm, beautiful place, one that was very different from the large, dirty city where she was born in the winter. So she and some friends went to a lush, tropical island. They played in the ocean and walked along the green paths. In the evening on her birthday the friends gathered, including a gentle, wise man. There were flowers, food, and some thoughtful presents.

The woman brought out a photo of herself as a little baby. Her mother was holding her, her father beside her mother. She began thinking about her life with them as a child. By this time both had passed away. She remembered that she had not wanted to be like either one of them. Her mother was meek and frightened, and often felt like a victim. Her father had a bad temper and yelled a lot. She became sad and wished that she had had different parents.

The wise man saw her sadness and came over to her.

She complained about her father’s bullying, and said she resented how weak her mother had been. She started to cry. The wise man asked looked deep into her eyes and said, ”Close your eyes, we will go on a journey.” She closed her eyes and he took her to her family’s ancestral lands. She saw her ancestors centuries ago, in their villages with family and friends, lovers and enemies. She saw them fish and hunt, raise children and crops and animals, build homes and fortresses and sacred places, craft everyday tools and beautiful art. She saw them learn and teach and wonder, work and play, dance and lift their voices in song. She saw them rejoice as they welcomed new babies and grieve as they buried the departed.

She saw some of them look farther than their own village, inspired to journey on land or sea; some returned, some did not. She saw some go proudly or fearfully to war, and some stay home, where war very often slashed into their villages and found them anyway. Her ancestors did and felt and thought all the things that people do. They were kindly or mean, honest or cheats, poor or prosperous. Some had short lives, some had long ones. Some died peacefully at home, some of illnesses or accidents, some in the carnage of battle.

After a while, the wise man asked softly, “Do you see your mother? Do you see your father?”

“They are everywhere,” she whispered.

She could see her mother in a playing child, in a young woman rocking a cradle at a stone hearth, in a studious monk working by candlelight, in a frail old grandmother on her deathbed, but also in a man fighting desperately and fiercely to defend his home and family. She could see her father in a cruel invader slaughtering at random, in a self-important and quarrelsome official, in a lonely but proud man who held himself aloof from everyone, but also in a gardener carefully tending plants, and in a youthful lover. She now understood that all the ancestors she had seen, and many more, were part of her parents, and thus were part of her. She no longer thought of her parents as isolated from everyone else, or from herself. She saw them as if they were in a tapestry woven over the ages. Their imperfections, and hers, no longer annoyed her so much.

The journey was over. She opened her eyes.

The wise man had seen everything, and knew that she now had a deeper understanding. He smiled kindly, saying, “Now you see that everyone lives in a pattern going back through history and before, just as you do. Some people you meet may even share some of your ancestors. And if you go back far enough in time, we all share all our ancestors.“ He paused to let that sink in, then continued, “But what matters most is that you have felt a connection, stretching back into the past and reaching into the future, with everyone who has ever lived, or ever will live. Remember that connection, whenever you meet someone. No matter how people seem at the time, they are all your brothers and sisters. You share the breath of life and the dance of the ages.”

The woman was overwhelmed. She told the wise man that she was very grateful for the wonderful vision.

He chuckled and reminded her that her inner journey was not his creation, but her own legacy. He said, “When you are unhappy with other people, remember to open your mind and let your vision expand as far as you can. You will then see them and what they do very differently. You may even see yourself differently.” She tried to imagine everyone’s connections with their ancestors and descendents and with everyone else’s, until it became too complicated, like a gigantic ball of string.

The wise man said softly, “Let go, let it all go.” She sighed with relief and released her ideas about what she had seen. She looked over the ocean to the horizon and the complicated image dissolved into a shimmering light in which everyone - past, present, future - is connected.

The wise man smiled and sang a simple chant about letting go. The woman sang along, and she let the music carry her into a place where she was at peace.

It was a very special birthday.

Friday, October 9, 2009

Obama's Eulogy for Ted Kennedy, Aug 2009


President Obama Eulogy: 22 min.

On August 29, 2009, David's 40- day memorial gathering at Toualame Meadows, Yosemite coincided with the rich funeral mass for Senator Edward Kennedy
at Our Lady of Perpetual Help Basilica in Boston, MA. President Obama's eulogy remembers the "Lion of the Senate" in a personal speech he wrote himself.

Thursday, October 8, 2009

... more young David (Randy) photos for you

Headed out for a ski with Dolores

Ed and young Randy ... love this image... so much heart

I should send these two to Mothering magazine I know... an inovative baby carrier for sure

Precious joy!

Wednesday, October 7, 2009

October 8th - David's Birthday!

David Randall La Chapelle

Born Oct 8, 1952
Denver, Colorado

A Hymn of Changes is COMING!

Good news - A Hymn of Changes, the re-publication of David's written offering of the 3000-year-old divining modality the I Ching, will be ready for you very soon. Devin H.R. (mostly) and I have been fine-tuning the manuscript almost daily and it has gone through many refining sessions and the careful eyes of detail loving editors (L.McLaren, C.Foley, LvdWater). We will send off digital files for the first galley printing on David's birthday, Thursday of this week, October 8 to see how our progress is coming along and pray diligently we have something you can purchase in time for holiday 2009 gifting... yeah!

High Elevation, Low Temperatures

When the hospital chaplain walked me out to my car, he carried the bag with David's clothes. Knowing I'd driven my loved one into the doctor's office four hours earlier on that surreal day, he gazed at the dark sky spilling rain and said I was joined by God in my tears. That moment, on cue, the rain intensified and dumped on us so fast we hugged goodbye and I scurried to open my car door to stay (relatively) dry. A moment earlier he'd asked what I was going to do now...? and I'd responded I would be sitting in my car alone, transitioning...

Woosh, that's where I now was... damp, sitting, transitioning... alone

The phone rings and caller ID says it's my mom. I start to put the phone back down... not now mom, its kind of a bad time... WAIT... she is calling at this very moment. I answered and shared the hard news. That afternoon, she packed and drove 8 hours to get to me, and has been within reach, sharing the mountain of duties, ever since. Today was the day, after the fullness and maturing of a full moon just passed, after attempting to leave earlier but being turned back by early snowy windy road conditions, the timing was all lined up for today.

She drove off this morning and I have been palpably aware of the new sensation, one that would have been a grand leap two months ago... I am .... w,with... out him now.

There were people around when he was sick, people coming/ going before that (thank goodness), people around during the loss time, and for all phases of my grieving chapters...

Today was the first day it was just me feeling aware how much my mother's help softened the blow, allowed segments of loss to be delivered in layers....

My dear neighbors the Joyce's, who have been key support during the last years, found their life's movement packing them and transplanting them to Durango this week for work. They're gone. Quinn and Tucker too. Close still? yes ... Dramatically different all of sudden? Very yes.

Aspen leaves, gold and radiant throughout town just last week, stripped down overnight leaving the reminder that it is chill season now... The peaks are coated white. It's stunning, it's fantastical... and it's yet another taste of loss.

It's okay
I'm clear the experiences immediately ahead are about finding fullness in the emptiness. There's no other way to understand this.

I will open my door to Quiet, serve tea to Reflection. Studio Experimentation time, I have longed would ask for my dance card, is close, waiting.... Waiting for '08 tax papers to get sorted and sent away, for legal probate stuff to get resolved, winter's wood to be cut and stacked, and waiting for the book completion.... among other things


Then... a little precious hibernation - mixed with the sweetness of small-town holiday get-togethers, stillness of snow... and a little catching up on my thank-you-note plate of spaghetti.

Photos taken Sept 30
Wood and fall's show just days ago, before they were winter's trees, bare and explicative of coming cold

Mom's hard work: new linseed coating for house exterior and new "periwinkle" door color... love it with the gold aspen.... (thank you thank you)

First snow on peaks