Off The Path Productions in Nepal

Being that I just turned 27 whole years old (officially in my late 20′s!), a couple of things have shifted suddenly. My health insurance went up an additional $55 a month, for one. The second, is that I think people are starting to believe me when I tell them I am a documentary filmmaker. More importantly, I am starting to believe it myself.

When I set out to create this blog more than two years ago, I was experiencing the repercussions of my first big leap of faith after joining the world of starving artistry. I was 25 years old , had just left my first big-girl job, and was hoping to travel the world and gain life experience. Ever the virgo, I created my “Life To Do List” in the hopes of having a guide for at least the first five years of this transitional time in my life.

Two years and over 30% of the Life To Do List completed, and I am more sure than ever that taking the leap of faith was more than worth it. I have traveled around the world, had my work featured on important travel sites like LonelyPlanet.com and have started to get paid to edit travel videos, behind the scenes featurettes, and documentary films. It’s working!

Very recently, I had a dream meeting with an incredible woman who is inspired by the children of the country of Nepal. As you may know, I traveled there with my best friend to begin filming my first feature documentary about the incredible children of the Unatti Foundation.  This woman has decided to bring us along with her and her team as they bring music to the children of Nepal. My best friend and I will be documenting their efforts on the ground and then will be staying to continue working on our own documentary. We leave on December 13th of this year. This is a dream come true!

While I’ve got a ton of work to do and multiple opportunities in the pipeline, my Co-Producer Patty and I still have to pinch ourselves. It took us a very long time to get here and many dollars of investment and the energy and support of so many individuals. And even when I pushed my brand new business card across the table which says “Janelle K. Eagle, Off the Path Productions,” I am still baffled that someone else takes us as seriously as we are asking them to. After all, I wouldn’t even have had the business card unless I had written it down (#10 on the Life To Do List!).

There will be much more content coming to this site in the next couple weeks and months so I hope you will stay tuned. If you’d like a sneak peak at what we’ll be experiencing, check out this video I created for some brownie troops in Los Angeles (yeah, you read that correctly):

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It’s important to note that I have met Ms. Ensler on at least three other occasions, though this time I wasn’t crying and bumbling through my attempt to thank her for inspiring me. In fact, I was tres calm and simply thankful for the entire experience.

You see, 7 years ago I walked into an auditorium at UC Irvine greeted by 400 people that had just experienced my production of Eve Ensler’s “The Vagina Monologues” in Orange County, California. At the time the Orange County Register wouldn’t print an article about the show because of the “V-word” in its title.  It was with this show that I secured my future as a social activist, artist, and fundraiser.

This Valentine’s Day, I walked onto the same campus greeted by 1000 attendees and the playwright/activist herself. I was invited to attend the show by Jacob Knobel, a remarkable young man who took over running the show after I graduated. Jacob came to me almost 4 years ago to ask me about my experience and talk to me about his vision of V-Day UCI going forward. I was impressed by his enthusiasm for a theaterical production that was not part of his major (he studied engineering) and for a subject matter which was not part of his anatomy.

Little did I know that this young strapping gentleman would elevate V-Day UCI to a level I never thought possible. He guided generations of girls through the incredible production process, empowered new leaders, and though he’s graduated and moved to Northern California, he still returns every year to make sure that the show is a success.

This year, Jacob was joined (and thanked publicly) by the woman that inspired us all. Eve Ensler decided to spend her 2010 Valentine’s Day at UC Irvine as part of this year’s fundraiser. She announced to the appreciative crowd that Jacob was “one of the best V-men that we have.” I couldn’t agree more. His parents could not make it to the show, but I was gleaming with enough pride for all of us.

After watching the show, hearing the stories of women around the world who’ve experienced violence, and then Eve sharing the story of her recent personal journey while in the Democratic Republic of Congo, I realized that I was overwhelmed. Overwhelmed by all the discussion of rape, incest, genocide, genital mutilation… all the gross stuff that no one wants to talk about but V-Day confronts full frontal. I stood up during the question and answer period and asked Eve how she avoids becoming numb to each individual and horrific story. How she avoids feeling overwhelmed by how great the problem is.

Eve Ensler, my ever-present mentor suddenly was giving me advice. Not the advice that I gleaned from her writing but the advice that I had actually stood before her (and 999 other people) and asked for. Suddenly I was having a conversation with my guide. She talked about how difficult this can be sometimes, that she didn’t always succeed in remaining micro when the macro seemed to glare. As she collected her words she simply said “stay present in each moment and focus on the individual in front of you.” So obvious but just so true.

Thankfully I got to hang with Eve for a short moment after the show and after the adoring crowd got their books and programs signed by the ever-gracious guest of honor. She thanked me for bringing the show to the school in the first place and we laughed about the fact that I’m usually such a mess whenever I meet her. We then commented on how excited it was that the newspaper that originally wouldn’t’ print the name of her show had chosen this year’s production as one of the top two “things to do” on Valentine’s Day.

Amazing, really.

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The Program that started it all

The young version of myself was constantly active, athletic, and though I had an aversion to brussel sprouts, I was healthy. When the D.A.R.E. program came to my school, I was singled out to lead the Pledge of Allegiance at our “graduation ceremony” because of my vocal support of a drug and alcohol free childhood. An overachiever, a daughter a parent could be proud of, I even sang in the temple’s choir. I was by no means a “bad kid” that was caught by the principal smoking behind the bleachers. In fact, I didn’t even pick up the habit until I was in college.

Like many impressionable young people, I started with what seemed like a noncigarette. It was a CIGAR. Eventually I slid over to clove cigarettes, thinking that a couple a day was something that cool artsy college kids did. Eventually I was hooked on the inhale, switched to regular cigarettes, and was suddenly something that “little girl Janelle” would be ashamed of: a Smoker.

Now let me stop here for a second and give a little love to those people in my life who are smokers. I hate how shame and smoking are so linked. Quitting is one of the hardest things you’ll ever do. No one will be able to tell you how to stop. You’ll get there on your own if you want to, promise. I am writing this article simply to share my own story. Find your own way and go for it! You can do it!

And to all the loved ones out there that have a smoker in their life… Let me speak solely from my own experience. It never helped when someone attempted to guilt me into stopping. It never helped when someone gave me an ultimatum. I hated it when people would pass by and say “that’ll kill you, you know.” I never understood this as a child and publicly announce to the world an apology to my father for all the guilt trips; they probably only made his journey harder.

They say it takes the average smoker at least 10 attempts before s/he stops smoking. Oftentimes, a smoker may stop for a while and then may revisit their nasty habit when life’s larger obstacles rear their ugly heads (i.e. Death in the family, layoffs, etc.). I have attempted to quit the nasty habit a number of times, usually lasting at least of couple of weeks before I stopped. One of the attempts that lasted the longest was when I got an extremely severe lung infection that landed me in a hospital emergency room twice in one week. If you think that would stop me… you’ve probably never been a smoker.

I stopped for a while and then eventually went to a bar and thought “I’ll have just one.” Suddenly I’d be back in my groove and the habits would start again. I would wake up, smoke a cigarette. I would get ready for my day, get in the car, and light up. I’d eat my meals, have a cig, and then do it all over again the next day. My friends smoke. All the bars in Los Angeles that I frequent have built in smoking patios.While I have a strong spirit and am capable of dedicating myself to a goal, the familiarity of my life culture and smoking was too great for me overcome.

Me on the balcony formerly known as "The Smoking Balcony"

Eventually, I knew myself well enough to know that if I tried to become a casual smoker, I’d get looped back into my habits eventually. My routine in Los Angeles was so tied to when and where I lit up that I didn’t know how to enjoy my balcony’s sunset view of the Hollywood Hills without a cigarette in my hand. I even called the locale my “smoking balcony.” Having a beer in one hand automatically meant having a cigarette in the other. It seemed I didn’t even know how to live in Los Angeles without a pack of cigarettes. Every time I would leave town with the intention to quit, I’d come back to Los Angeles and light up again. My home seem inextricably linked to a habit I hated.

My brother Jason, unimpressed by a two week non-smoking stint that I was bragging about, mentioned to me once that “It takes 90 days to make a habit and 90 days to break one.” Always game to prove my brother wrong, I was heartbroken when I couldn’t get to that goal time and time again. Never one to give up though, I decided to add it to the Life to Do List, and thus entered #18: “Do not smoke a cigarette, not even one, for at least 90 days.”

About to light up in Bali

What finally allowed me to cross #18 off the List was a two-month trip around the world. Travel is not only my passion, it’s where I am in my groove. On this particular extended trip, I was out of my familiar surroundings long enough to break all of my habits. This was not the case in August 2008 when I traveled to Bali for 10 days (along with a carton of cigarettes). I smoked the entire time and hate that many of my travel pictures include me with a cigarette in my mouth.

On this trip, I knew I was lucky to be traveling in the first place. I knew that I would be viewing sites and meeting people that would change me. I had plenty to distract me. Nothing would be familiar, so habits weren’t applicable. It seemed like a perfect excuse to stop.

I fumbled quite a few times when I first got to Nepal simply because I hadn’t mentally “let go” of my habit. My local guide and dear friend in Bhaktapur is a smoker. Being around him while he smoked was a tease, so I lit up with him a couple of times in the spirit of camaraderie (or so I told myself). Slowly but surely during the month I lived in Nepal, I smoked less and less. I left that beautiful country on November 1st for India, smoking only twice during the five days I was in town. I enjoyed neither cigarette that I had and mentally felt the moment where I was done. On November 5th, 2009, I left India for Europe and left my smoking habit behind.

Today, the 3rd of February marks 90 days cigarette free. It was hard to come back to Los Angeles, but as soon as everyone got used to being around me without a cig in my hand (and I got used to not smoking while others did), it became markedly easier. I learned to love the Hollywood Hills view even more without the cigarette. It is still hard to not smoke when I am drinking, but I choose to focus on the company I keep or the music playing instead of how bad I want a cigarette at that bar. The longer I go without smoking, the easier it gets. Now I’m more used to not smoking than the opposite.

For those of you wishing to get inspired to stop smoking, feel free to adapt my story to work for you. There are a couple of disclaimers that are relevant (especially because I believe we all have our own journey):

1. You need to have a lifestyle that allows you to GET OUT OF TOWN! You need to be gone long enough (and far enough) so that your habits are broken. Any other big life change or move might actually be a perfect excuse (new apartment? new city?)/

2. Instead of saying “I will quit smoking,” consider the 90 day option instead. I may light up again in the future, but knowing that I’ve already gone this long makes me think its unlikely.

3. I had supportive friends and family that didn’t make me feel like I’d be a failure if I didn’t make it. They congratulated me along the way but didn’t pressure me.

4. I refused to bring cigarettes with me and none of the countries I was traveling in were going to carry my brand. I’m pretty loyal, so this was a big advantage. (If you travel to Europe, the sticker shock of extremely expensive cigarettes also makes it easy to pass up)

A Travel Picture sans smoke!

5. There were some advantages to my European travels that made it easier for me to stop. I was constantly moving, traveling by train to a new city at least once ever three days. Nothing was habitual. Focus on catching the next train or tour rather than the location of the closest smoke shop.

If you have any of these options, take them. Getting to see the world is a wonderful side effect of crossing this item off the list. I had the time of my life and got healthier at the same time. Not to mention, I think I look much better in my vacation pictures without a cigarette in my hand!

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A talented man uses all limbs to string necklaces

Though it may surprise you, I’m shy when meeting new people. If someone introduces me to a new person, I am usually just fine and can jump into conversation. Friends of friends are easily embraced. It is not the same, however, when it’s just me and person x and there is no particular reason to have a conversation.

I am happy to say that traveling, especially on this particular journey, has begun to break me of this habit. I noticed it recently when Patty and I were set to rendezvous with out tour group at a specific place in Kathmandu called “The Lotus Gallery.” Owned by a dear friend of the Unatti Foundation’s director, she assured us that Santosh would always take care of us if we stopped into his gallery. He’d offer us tea, a place to sit, and a place to wait.

Patty and I were feeling quite proud of ourselves when we found Lotus Gallery on our own. However, when we walked in and Santosh greeted us, I suddenly felt very nervous. What was I to say to this man? How well does he speak English? Why would he even want us in his space? To top it off, there was another unidentified man already hanging out there. I made awkward conversation as I pretended to be very interested in the art on his walls.

Then everything changed. One of our fellow travelers, Clinton Bopp, showed up at the Gallery as well. A younger guy from New Zealand, he’s got a personality and warmth that immediately makes anyone feel at ease. He also spent some time living as a homeless artist in Los Angeles, so he’s had his fair share of striking up conversations with people he doesn’t know. When he got to the gallery, he jumped right into conversation with both men.

As it turns out, the guest was an artist from Tibet with an incredible life story. Santosh was extremely interested in the film that we are creating. We learned a bunch about Clinton that we didn’t previously. More of our traveling party showed up and then left again, and suddenly I saw the vision of what Lotus Gallery was to become for us. We kicked off our shoes and simply talked. A man from New Zealand, an Indian-born Nepali, an artist from Tibet, and two American girls sipped tea and just talked.

I am struck by how obvious it seems that we are surrounded by so many similar opportunities everywhere we go. We hear German, Spanish, Italian, Dutch and other languages surrounding us as we walk every day. We are all out of our element and I believe, all crave deeper human interaction. Passing by strangers gets old, making new friends never does.

As soon as we embraced this philosophy, we met Kaushl Patel. His name is pronounced like Kosher with an “l” at the end. We met him in the most random of ways. Patty and I were in a bead shop commissioning some trinkets for our parents. We literally got to pick the colors and shapes off the walls and watched a man make brilliance before our very eyes.

The small bead shop (literally 10 ft. by 6 ft.) was simultaneously filled by a large Indian family, Patty and I, Kaushl, and the bead man. All eyes seemed to turn to us. He asked where we were from, we told him California. “Cal-ee-four-nee-yah!” He responded with enthusiasm.

The next question (which is standard practice here) is “How long are you going to stay in Nepal?” One month. “And then you are going home to Cal-ee-four-nee-yah?” he asked. “No,” I said, “Next we go to India.” You can imagine how a room full of Indian women and Indian-born Nepalis would react to such news.

“INDIA! You are going to India! Where in India?” We are going to Delhi, Agra, and Jaipur. “Jaipur?? That is where my brother lives! You are family! You stay with my brother!” Patty and I laughed at the attention and then continued to chat with Kaushl long after our commissioned pieces were finished.

Aquamarine gems glimmer on the display table

Kaushl owns a jewelry shop in Lazimpak- a few kilometers away. He gave us his cell phone number and said “You are here in Kathmandu for a few more days. You come visit me and see my store in Lazimpak.” And I don’t know what possessed us to- but we did.

Yesterday we took a taxi to his store in Lazimpak. Somehow we found it, right there was “Swan Gems and Jewelry.” We got to the door and it was locked. Of course. Silly us, we’d traveled all the way here and he wasn’t even at his shop. Then in the distance we hear a voice… “Friends! Friends!! You are here!!!” And there he was. Kaushl was running down the street to greet us.

We sat with Kaushl for four hours. He bought us the best momos we’ve had the entire trip, provided us juice boxes and beer, gave us a private tour of all his jewelry and gems, and was officially our friend. He even got us a private taxi to get us all the way back to our hotel and paid for it himself, instructing us to call when we arrived safely- just like a parent.

Kaushl Patel in his Swan Gem store in Lazimpat

On Monday we go back to Lazimpat to pick up the Jewelry we bought from Kaushl. We spent very little at his store, but gained so much. His charm and sense of family and pride is perhaps one of the best gifts we’ve received while on these travels. I think we will stay with his brother when we get to Jaipur. And I think we will have some more momos with him before we leave Nepal.

And none of this would have happened had we not been brave enough to simply have a conversation with someone we didn’t know.

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The Classic cover of Lee's "To Kill a Mockingbird"

Last night I finished reading “To Kill A Mockingbird” by Harper Lee. One of the “Big Reads,” this book allows me to get closer to finishing item #16 on my “Life To Do List“.

As I shared with friends that I was reading the book, I enjoyed hearing the visceral and appreciative associations my peers have with this novel. I was saddened that a few asked “Why don’t you just watch the movie?” Part of the reason that I chose to put this item on the To-Do list was so that I could read more. In this digital world, we forget to allow our imaginations to create our own pictures, and as an artist, I crave the brain exercise. I promised myself that even if I had read the book as a child, it didn’t count towards my goal. I needed to revisit the stories with my contemporary point of view- allowing my life experience to shine new light on stories I read in the past only because I had to.

Many of us read “To Kill A Mockingbird” when we were in grade school and haven’t visited it since. The most common association I got was “Awww, I love Boo Radley.” As I re-read the book, I found it curious that this elusive character tended to be the most poignant figure for us as children. Perhaps it is because when we read this novel in our youth, we shared the same curiosity and devious delight that Jem and Scout did in discovering the identity and purpose of Boo.

Now that I’ve revisted the narrative, I found Boo to be only slightly striking. There were so many other layers and moments of the story that strike me now that barely made an impression when I was a child.

Atticus shares his knowledge

In particular, the relationship between Scout and her father, Atticus, strikes me differently than I remember it. The pure naivete and innocence of her inquiries into the world, and his dedication to telling her the truth. That her age and growth was sometimes told in years in Harper Lee’s writing, but hit home when she was no longer small enough to curl into her father’s lap as he read in his rocking chair. I was able to relate to her disappointment in no longer being able to hide in her father’s tummy. I remember what it felt like not to have the responsibility of understanding the serious conversations the adults were having around me.

In the trailer for the movie version of the film (see below), Gregory Peck, the actor who plays Atticus Finch, talks about why this book struck audiences on such a grand scale. His first words are: “the world never seems as fresh and wonderful, as comforting and terrifying, as good or as evil as it does when seen through the eyes of a child. For a writer to capture that feeling is remarkable.” I couldn’t agree more. I highly recommend taking a trip through memory lane and comparing your impressions of youth with the impressions you’ll have now that you’re old enough to have had life experience that colors the perspective and characters with which you identify in this novel. It was a pleasure.

Next on the list is Wuthering Heights! Heathcliff and I will report back to you in a few weeks when I finish.

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My children, Stanley and Sassy

This week, I moved back in to my home.

My Sanctuary. The room and the furniture and the world art that is so familiar. “Home,” and the concept thereof, is a crucial part of my success. I am incredibly lucky to have always had a stable, loving home. My parents are still married. They still live in the house that I grew up in. I went to school with the same kids from Kindergarten through High School graduation. It was Americana. It was easy. And because I never had to worry about these “givens” in my life, I was able to be a successful and passionate student, traveler, and leader. The stability gave me confidence.

As I’m now almost a decade out of high school (yikes!), the importance of a stable home in my life has not waned. While I’ve moved around Southern California a number of times, I’ve had an incredible apartment for almost three years now. It’s huge. It has a balcony overlooking the Hollywood hills. There’s ample parking– which you know is HUGE if you’ve ever lived in L.A. This is my space (as opposed to MySpace)… and I love it.

No stereotypes please

What’s been difficult about having such a lovely home… is that it’s made it hard to leave. To challenge myself to seek the unfamiliar. A crutch, if you will.

That’s why the past six months of my life have been so crucial for me. I packed up, found a subletter, and moved to Ohio. Then I traveled to New York. Then DC. Then back to New York. Then back to San Francisco. I couch surfed in Los Angeles- only .7 miles away from my own apartment while my subletter finished up her time here. I lived out of my suitcase and off the generosity of my friends and family.

And now am I home again.

I unlocked my storage space and sifted through the items I dubbed “unnecessary” for my survival six months ago. And it’s amazing to me how many of these items are still unnecessary. In fact, that’s been my favorite part of returning. The distance between myself and my material belongings has allowed me to reassess my relationship with these possessions.

My talented Gramoo's artwork

And then the CLEANING started. If I didn’t remember that I owned it, I threw it out this week. If I hadn’t missed it… it was gone. It was a therapeutic way for me to create the space around myself that I need to thrive. Deliberate. Methodical. I asked myself important questions about what I wanted to be surrounded by. And it finally feels right.

And it feels like home again.

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Don't mess with a lady with a toolbelt

I have a goal of having 100 goals. Make sense?

I don’t want to speak for all human kind, but I find it extremely helpful to have a direction when purposely deciding to go off course. That seems a bit oxymoronic, but indulge me for a moment.

After quitting my job, deciding on a new career path, and turning down a rather lucrative opportunity, it was important for me to ask myself “What am I doing?” I made no pretense with myself that I had to decide now what to do with the rest of my life. In fact, I gave myself permission NOT to know. It was one of the most freeing decisions I’ve made in my 25 years of existence.

Fancy cards require manual skill

However, being the Super-Virgo that I am, I have to be doing something with my life between random gigs,. That’s where the To Do List comes in handy. It provides focus. Goals.

If you haven’t checked out my progress recently, I am referring to my “Life To Do List,” here. I have added a few goals in about three different phases to the list.

I’d like to introduce you, my readers, to #’s 78-86 on the list. Per the usual, about half of them deal with travel or adventure. I can’t believe learning to drive stick-shift didn’t show up on one of the first incarnations of this list. Really excited about making an homage to Gramoo.

78. Travel to a Spanish-speaking country, y habla solamente en Español.
79. Learn to drive Stick-shift
80. Sleep outdoors under the stars (i.e. camping)
81. Make something out of clay, in honor of Gramoo
82. Fix one of a multitude of broken things in my apartment- by myself!!
83. Go Skinny Dipping in an Ocean other than the Pacific (been there, done that)
84. Be in Times Square for New Year’s
85. Visit a midwest state that I’ve never been to

I’ve still got at least 15 more goals to add this list. But as originally intended, I have 5 years to complete all of these. I therefore permit myself to take a little more time to figure out what the heck I want to do with my free time.

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The time away from structured work has done a number of things to me:

1. I speak in code. Ask the roomies. If I start throwing out the words “rendering,” “XML,” or “widgets,” I no longer get offended when they stare at me blankly and shake their heads.

2. I am now considered for awesome jobs. It’s amazing to tell the world that you’re available. Then all it does is keep sending you options. Some suck. Some rule. But having CHOICES simply because you’re AVAILABLE for them? Brilliant.

3. I forget what date it is regularly. This is because the normal markers of the passage of time (waking, leaving for work, lunch, etc.) are not a part of my schedule unless I include them. I’ve gotta get better at that.

4. I experience life with a “blog-ability” factor. As experiences and opportunities roll my way, I consider whether or not they are blog-able, how I’d write the story, and what pictures I’d include. I have yet to learn how to turn life lens this “off.”

More than anything, I can say I am really enjoying this time. Only taking on projects that inspire, challenge, or energize me is a treat. A blessing. One that I refuse to take for granted.

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Recently, I “accidentally” planned a mini high-school reunion. A friend of a friend saw a message I sent telling her I thought we should try to get some folks together. We all went to school together, so she figured we should all hop in and bring anyone from school we were still in touch with. Suddenly, there were 20 of us at the local bowling ally in the town we all grew up in. All because of one little message I sent to someone on Facebook.

My class’s formal 10 year reunion is not until 2011. If the stress and anticipation is any worse than it was for me on this pseudo reunion, it should be fun for anyone who has to watch me prep for the big event. My parents and brother had quite a laugh as I ran in and out of the living room modeling FOUR various hairstyles and a plethora of outfit options. Bless their hearts, they smiled and played along lovingly.

As I’m sure is true for anyone else who’s attended a reunion recently, the anticipatory anxiety was hardly worth it. Upon arrival, it was nothing but smiles as we greeted one another and laughed about how we all look the same as we did in High School. Even those who showed up whom I was never close with were fun to catch up with.

It was fun! I recommend accidental reunions to anyone.

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This year- I feel even more connected to the teachings of my people. On Rosh Hashanah, we look at what is GOOD in our lives. Where we have fallen short. Where we could have done better. What MORE we could have contributed to our community, to our family, to ourselves.

This year, during our silent prayer, I asked for the same things I normally do: peace. love. happiness. But what was exciting for me this year is that I noticed I was saying “please CONTINUE to bring me peace, love, happiness.” This is a huge sign of change for me. A sign that I am where I need to be. That I am content and open on my journey. That I want and need to continue on this path and that I am so sure of it, I ask for MORE.

It was also very exciting (and shocking) to see members of my hometown come up to me with questions about the work I am doing. My parents are well connected at the temple I grew up at- so the “movers and shakers” tend to speak about their kids any chance they have to shmooze. Many congregation members who have literally seen me grow up were now having ADULT conversations with me about how WE adults need change and how excited they are that I am a part of it.

I also had a fun moment when I saw one girl who I used to babysit. She is now 18 and about to go to college. And it makes me feel old. And proud. And old.

I am looking forward to another full day of temple tomorrow. We’ll be having a brunch at another temple members’ home- which is a weird and unfamiliar thing for me, but is more normal since my Gramoo died in 2006. My mother and I will be making an Insalata Caprese and will be playing Rumikub as my dad watches baseball. It’s perfect.

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