This is a perfect time for me to announce that "The Search For Mae Posop" is back on track.  The hows and whys will be fully developed over the coming weeks as I describe Rice Mother's ascension onto a world stage.  Her process.  My process.  It's all about evoking an ancient and familiar spirit with a strongly expressed message that will be seen on the web, hand-held devises and projection throughout Southeast Asia.

I'll start with the question, why are we searching for her?   The answer has very much to do with the fact that for thousands of years rice has shaped the history, culture, diet and economy of billions of people in Asia.  As a result, rice permeates all aspects in the life of people in all walks of life. What caught my eye originally was that rice also takes many forms in the arts - from poems to music to painting to sculptures.  Rice is in the traditions, folklore, ritual and even the language.  Is that a perfect window of opportunity for a documentary film, or what?

Five years ago, while searching for a pragmatic way to inform the struggling rice farmers of Southeast Asia (SEA) the concepts of climate change resiliency and sustainable agriculture, my friend Benjamas at the Local Development Institute in Bangkok, reminded me of Mae Posop's historical and far-reaching influence.  And the seed of doc series was planted.

My own personal search for the Rice Mother is simply to return to, or rekindle, the strength of her ancient wisdom for the struggling farmers of Southeast Asia (SEA).  Her doc film series will showcase how rice farmers can manage their lives in such a way that will insure their ability to continue to feed their families and to be resilient during this time of climate change. Already everybody in SEA struggles with a climate that is no longer the climate of the past.  They are her audience.

Last November 2014 I pitched the project to the members of Scary Cow Productions (a San Francisco-based film company) and I waited for feedback as I worked on my other four film projects. Waited and and waited some more.  Then, 5 months later, I got an Email from a young woman who informs me that she is experienced in, and passionate about, documentary filmmaking and would like to join the team.  Team?  We are magically a team again - or is it some more.  It's like a new star is born in the universe.  To be sure, I gladly accepted an invitation to have a face-to-face.  It was on the day of our first meeting that I decided the person to direct the trailer for doc-series was Elizabeth Jackson - the dynamo sitting across from me.  In a coffee-dive deep in the Mission District is where the new star first glimmered.

First thing she did was call a preproduction meeting so I could meet three of her hand-picked doc film associates (I love a Director who directs).  And, of course, the meet-up was also arranged so they could meet me: the old guy with the fire in his eyes.  The message I intended to leave behind was that I have a deep instinct and desire to produce this series as soon as our 2-1/2 minute trailer can be created and production funding can be subsequently arranged.  No small task, but our project is an important one and I am confident that the right funder(s) will appear.  They're already in my sights.

The spirit of Mae Posop is a compelling one.  There's no mistaking whether she's present or not. Know this: I have experienced her presence again now in the form a renewed energy and a vibrant momentum.   And believe me, that's always a good thing in this doc filmmaking line of work.

Communicating With Rice Mother

It’s not much of a stretch for me to assume that I am one of very few American citizens who has the ability to communicate with the Mae Posop.  She is, after all, an ancient and sacred spirit in faraway Southeast Asia (SEA) and I am far from being a devoutly religious man.  However, over the last four years I have studied and come to accept her spiritual values. 

 I am attracted to her myths and rituals that provide poor rural rice farmers with a whole paradigm of how to live in harmony with nature and its cycle of birth, death and rebirth, creating equality in society, and respecting the feminine power as the source of life.   The Rice Mother has become a close friend of mine.

Our long path together will, I expect, end only when her documentary film series (The Search For Mae Posop) is being produced and distributed, as I envision, exclusively over the Internet in the aforementioned, faraway SEA.   Such a task would seem impossible to achieve without my daily dialogue with Mae Posop.   She is able to critique me, and patiently guide me as I endeavor to advance daily, in any way that I can find. 

During most of my relationship with Mae, her spirit has seemingly arrived at my side in the form of intuition: a sixth sense about what is important.  More recently, I am also learning to how to have a one-on-one dialogue with her through meditation.  Meditation requires a quiet mind and lots of practice.  I'm working on it.  On top of all that, I’m confident that Mae will also be appearing in my dreams.  Or so I’m told.  I wait hopefully.

My most recent dialogue with her informs me to continually monitor media coverage from tha part of the world and to wait for political calm before taking my small camera crew back into SEA.  The United States has elevated its warnings to recommend that Americans postpone non-essential travel to Thailand.  If we were going to travel only to Thailand, I would travel without hesitation, but now the State Department recommends that Americans currently avoid China’s Yunnan Provence as well.  That’s where the Mekong River begins it’s journey through SEA and where our series begins. On top of that my Asian friends, both here and over there, suggest it would also be foolish to travel into Myanmar, Vietnam and Cambodia at this time.  All of the above are experiencing some turmoil and political uncertainty. 

There is an old proverb that proclaims, “Smooth seas do not make skillful sailor.”  And so I take this opportunity to shout from the rooftops, “If I can’t do what I want now, I will be even more prepared to do what I want in the future.”

Job number one: get the trailer for the doc film series edited and make it available to the Ford and Sundance Foundations.  There is an urgency to the project that keeps me fully occupied.  Well, nearly.  I'm also setting up to shoot a film next month.  The script (A Lovely Adult Beverage) is an award winning script written a few years ago by San Franciscan David Asher and me.  I'm also working daily on a coming-of-age, art heist thriller screenplay called Objects of Belief.  

Stay tuned, won't you?

Chiseled In Granite

Usually it’s someone calling my name out from across a San Francisco street. “Hey Leo,” they’ll ask, “What’s going on? Anything?” There’s a lot going on. Let me fill you in a bit.

First, please spend a few moments studying the accompanying map - the second in the series of four. You will see that this one illustrates the route of my next trip to Southeast Asia during the window of time described as June, July and August of 2014: Thailand's North West Heartland, Myanmar's Shan State, and China's Yunnan Provence before turning south into Laos to follow the Mekong River Valley to Vientaine. Should I assume that you all understand the goal of the mini-documentary film series - The Search For Mae Posop? It’s said by the ancients that the road to perdition is paved in assumptions. Therefore, let’s take a close, hard look at the mission again. Just in case. Here it is in 17 words. The goal is to enhance the effectiveness of NGOs and CLC programs for the poor rural rice farmers throughout SEA. There are many levels to our mission, but know this: at its core, it is that. It is already chiseled in granite. So then, how does one proceed? Well, for one thing, I wisely continue to rely on Mae Posop to point the way. She has never failed to bring to my attention the next step. Right now the next step is to search for and find cooperative community farm networks (NGOs and CLCs) to visit with our cameras during the next trip to the other side of the world. What are the resources I can draw upon to accomplish this vital task? Well - fortunately during my first trip to SEA, I was introduced to highly regarded people and organizations that have offered to assist to me in arranging this activity. I am currently pursuing these much anticipated relationships. Lastly, I have begun the important search for a sponsor for Mae Posop’s mini-doc series. There are two seasons (each made up of 8 episodes) and thus two opportunities for a progressive enterprise in Southeast Asia to make a significant regional impression. The potential benefits to the sponsor are great and I am already presenting my case to important decision makers. Organic is the operative word here.

Mae Posop's Profile

The question put to me was, "Tell us about the title of your doc series. The Search For Mae Posop. What does it mean?" Wonderful question. I love to talk about my new best friend. In most rice growing areas of Southeast Asia there is an ancient spirit of rice that resides in a Rice Goddess or Rice Mother. For thousands of years her birth and life have appeared in legend and folklore in all regions of Thailand where she is called Mae Posop. Fast-forward to today: now rural rice farmers are concerned that she is being taken for granted and that their rich rice cultural heritage is fast disappearing. Only in the past five decades has her veneration been threatened by modern agriculture, changing rice growing economics, and industrialization. Wait for Superman no more. In The Search For Mae Posop she will be returned to center stage where she will direct our cameras to rural farmers learning and working hard to remain resilient and to continue to feed their families during this era of climate change.

Her offer of hope lies in the alternative rice farming movement that seeks alternative ways to cultivate rice which are in harmony with nature. Being in harmony with nature is a concept that is instantly desirable to us all. In the title, the use of her name, specifically in the Thai language, will be understood and considered both clever and clear by its narrowly defined Southeast Asian audiences: clever, in a way that is compelling to the rural rice farmer audience and clear, in a way that tells the viewer what it is they are going to see. It is critical that the huge rural farm populations of Southeast Asia (a) expands its understanding of the risks already underway, and (b) grasps what its seeing and is able to assess their own options within that paradigm. Is there a better way to protect their families and their greater communities? Far greater than considerations of economic and civic infrastructures is how a single man may feed his family. This documentary series, distributed only over the Internet, will help begin that effort.

Panning For Gold

The climate of the Mekong River Basin ranges from temperate to tropical. All I know for sure is that where we find ourselves today it is hot and humid and there is nothing but 'white water' ahead. So much to see and never enough time. What a rush in every sense of the word. During our second week in SEA the production team of three focuses it’s cameras and all it’s energy (and remaining shekels, I might add) on discovering the rural rice farmers who farm along a section of the Mekong River that sweeps down the broad curve of the river that borders Thailand, from Vientiane, Laos to Don Khong Island, Laos down near the Cambodian border. Here, the lives of the farmers revolve around a section of the Mekong that has long served as a lifeline into this interior. Along the Mekong there are astounding visible signs of history stretching back to the 6th and 7th century: gigantic Buddha statues atop mountains, breathtaking ruins and an ambiance that evokes an authentic awe in so many travelers. And there is genetic evidence that shows that rice originated 8,200 to 13,500 years ago and began moving down this important waterway. It is an important part of the world and we sense it. So - what do you do when, after a long trip to the other side of our planet and a long, red-eye railroad trip to this exact destination?

Well, the thinking was given that there was about to be a spectacular sunset on the river, it was unanimous: a cold beer with a view of the whole event would be in-order. Soon we realize that we’d better find a place to rest for the night. No problem as long as I leave it in the hands of the all-female crew. I take a cold shower and hit the rack with Mark Twain’s “Roughing It.” Wun goes for a jog. Jogging in that kind of heat is unimaginable to me. Gloria goes shopping for batteries. Stick a fork in me - I'm done.

Jesus on a Flapjack

There in the glaring sun, something in the patty’s dried mud and rice straw debris caught my eye. A small metallic disk. What the... There it was as clear as any likeness of Jesus on a flapjack: My name - graphically depicted on a bottle cap: LEO. I took it as an affirmation from Mae Posop. I'm supposed to be here. Amazing.

It was only 4:45 a.m. when I heard a vehicle pull into the guesthouse parking area. Khon Montri promised to arriveat 5 a.m. It would be like him to be early. Very well - up and at ‘em. I make my way outside with luggage in hand where I’m joined by Wun and Gloria who appear out of the darkness, packed, ready and raring to go.

With little conversation and no breakfast, we head for a Buddhist Monastery somewhere out there in the darkness. The name of the temple is Wat Kasemsrima. Khon Montri’s immense van has air/conditioning, soft leather lounge chairs and a large television screen. We sit comfortably with our feet up on the footrests. If we smoked cigars I’m sure we would have fired them up. At least in the movie version. He asks me of my plans concerning the distribution of our programming. My words come out of my experience and he seems pleased with what he hears: I tell him that it has become obvious to the producers that there is no more efficient or effective manner to reach an exponentially larger audience, or any of its parts, in shorter or across vastly extended spaces, than with digital video distributed over the multi- platforms so easily accessible throughout Southeast Asia via the Internet. Southeast Asia is presently witnessing a high acceptance rate to social media by individuals as well as a rapid growth in citizen’s journalism. Shaping these developments is a newfound affirmation of social media as a channel for the voices of ordinary people. As a result, the activation of a community has never been more responsive. We are in the right place at the right time. Within minutes we arrive at a public square - good sized and well cared for. In the dim light we seem to be surrounded by temples, open-air study halls and eating areas. In the dim light a dozen shadowing figures move about sweeping leaves away, freshening-up the large pile of loose rice that sits near the center of the square, and laying-out large grass mats. Locals begin to materialize and find comfortable seating. Gloria asks me stay behind her and out of frame.

I try, I really do. When the early morning rituals are about to begin a distant gong sounds. Deep and soft. It repeats - speeding up in tempo. A long line of stoic monks appears walking in a long line into the edge of the space. They pause and face the modest crowd for a long while. I think it was so we, the crowd, could watch and adore them, these holy men from long ago. Suddenly I realize one of monks is on a cell phone. This is telling of an age of change. It’s happening right now and we are there. We witness an ancient and moving Mae Posop ceremony that has been performed at the time of harvest for 5,000 years or more. Sufficient to say it is moving emotionally and that there were often tears often running down my cheeks. There was a Holy White String ceremony.

One of the outcomes is that I now wear a thick white string around my left wrist. It’s all about being connected - being in relationship - with all the elements that surround us.

The Great Khong

Director Wun Yip instructs our tuk-tuk driver to pull over to the side of the road near the university in Vientiane, Lao. Wun and our ace cinematographer, Gloria Kurnik, grab their cameras (Cannon DSLRs) and head inside the hot and dusty rows of foodstuffs looking for large sacks of rice being purchased and stacked on the back of motor scooters and bicycles. The preproduction shot list guides our daily agenda, minute by minute. The driver and I sit in the hot shade provided by the canvas top and wait as the ladies shop. We try to make conversation but it proves hopeless. He goes back to his cigarette and I dream of a cool breeze off the Pacific. Earlier, we left the Laotian Office of Agriculture and Forestry who explained they are midway thru a 4-year program calculated to train rural farmers to be “climate change-ready.” Today is the second consecutive day on their huge compound that sits across from the great university coliseum. But today the man assigned to us is a soviet trained Lao analyst and Doctor of water management. He shows us a power point presentation that was of some interest but repeated time and time again that he no power to show us anything more, such as, their rice test kitchens and laboratories. With not a moment of footage shot, the day is a dismal failure but still we plod on. We catch an overnight sleeper-bus that leaves Vientiane around 7 p.m. and head for Pakse located down the Mekong River near the Cambodian boarder. My female camera crew makes a bet that my bunkmate (bunkmate?) will not be the Swedish college girl they accuse me of dreaming off. Bunkmate? Well - this is a surprise. They remind me that Thailand is a proper country that would never place a man and a woman in the same bunk. The girls are right, of course, and a Lao college-age kid says his two words of English (“Howdy - howdy”), climbs in and plays video games all night long. It is a most grueling night. As I write today the light is beginning to turn from day to dusk here on the second story porch overlooking the river. The full moon should rise soon and promises to be spectacular. You see, this morning we made it over to a large island called Don Khong that sits in the middle of the Mekong. The camera crew left four hours ago to charter a boat and cruise around the island looking for, as always, shots that will make our trailer even better.

Me, I remain behind to research a possible connection between organic rice and climate change. Our interviews tomorrow are back in Thailand and will be about, hopefully, the profound connection that I manage to find between the two. And I hope to find time to take a much-needed nap. It’s dark now and there is still no sign of the ladies. They seem indestructible. Not to worry, I tell myself. I’d say it's time for a gin & tonic and just hope for the best, oui?