As a small group of Lycra-laden men crowd around posted results from The Rookie Triathlon, I can’t help but think of how similar they look to a group of giddy and anxious students waiting to find out who got the lead in the school play. The weather was iffy for a sprint tri—gloomy and drizzling, far too cold for May in Austin—but first-timers and veterans alike showed up in good spirits prepared to swim, bike, and run.
“Dude! Jefe won. No way—Jefe, you won your age group!” exclaims one of the team members.
This group of thirty-something year-old men, who made up the majority of the JuiceLand triathlon team (with the exception of Jefe’s wife, Kelly), swarm Jefe Greenheart with embraces of love and support. It was his first triathlon and he had won his highly competitive men’s 35-39 division. He breaks through the crowd to find Kelly. She’s not hard to spot; her toothy smile is genuine and inviting, and her red lustrous hair would make a mermaid jealous. Jefe beams with pride as he informs her that she also did exceptionally well—placing fourth in the women’s 30-34 division.
He stops abruptly, stricken by an idea, shifting from the celebratory huddle.
“I’m going to juggle on the podium! I need to find some fruit.”
After rummaging through JuiceLand’s tent for a moment, he picks up an orange. “Hmm, this could work,” he says, grabbing two more items that don’t seem to be standard juggling material: a banana and a pineapple. And yet, when the race emcee calls his name, Jefe’s fruit selection goes airborne nonetheless.
Although it was Jefe and Kelly’s first triathlon, they are no strangers to the spotlight. In fact, juggling is what brought them together. Kelly had co-founded a circus gathering that regularly met in Zilker Park, and in just two summers it grew from four to 400 people, becoming a sanctuary for playful locals wanting to learn and skillshare circus arts.
“One day, I juggled at Barton Springs and this guy said I should go to this circus gathering. I was always the weird kid who juggled and did flips but never had community around it,” said Jefe. After a miscommunication about the location, Jefe finally stumbled upon the circus jam. “It was like I had found my long lost family,” he recalls. And then, he found Kelly.
As I pull up to their house for this interview, there’s no doubt I’m at the right place. There’s a slackline in the front yard and a vibrant art car—painted like a psychedelic rainbow and adorned with the mantras “Real magic exists” and “Awaken your imagination.” The hood sports a portrait of Kelly’s grandmother, Joy, the previous owner of the car and inspiration behind its name, The Joy Ride. When Jefe and Kelly greet me at the door, I take notice of the purple vertical stripes painted on the entryway walls and feel like I’m stepping foot inside a funhouse. We settle on the couch, where I have a clear view of their trampoline in the backyard. (Of course.) As a kid, this was the kind of place I’d dreamt of living in.
There’s more to these two than juggling and carny culture, though. Shortly after their meeting, they spent a week connecting with each other at Burning Man—where multiple strangers asked how long they’d been married. Rather than resuming his cushy corporate television job, Jefe quit to travel around South America for seven months making documentaries with Kelly.
“I said, ‘Look, I’m leaving for South America in two weeks. Now is your chance. Come with me or not—but I may never come back,” Kelly says.
The Amazon was as challenging as you’d imagine; but sharing a small cot, running out of money and living barefoot (all while spending every minute, every hour, every day together) enhanced their relationship. This environment forced them to work through their issues rather than run from them.When they finally touched down onto U.S. soil, Jefe and Kelly headed straight to where it all began: Burning Man. This time, they formed a new love.
“We decided to combine everything we love into this company. And that’s how Greenheart Creative started. It was the platform for our video production company, as well as our performance entertainment company,” says Jefe.
Circus Picnic, the experiential entertainment troupe side of Greenheart Creative, is the go-to source for performance needs. The company has two sides: for-hire interactive talent and video production. The first side features everything from jugglers and stilt walkers to acrobats and fire hoopers, making it the perfect attraction for festivals, parades, and corporative parties. The video production side—formerly known as Greenheart TV—has given the couple unbelievable opportunities around the world. Clients and collaborators include Wanderlust Yoga Festival, Lance Armstrong and Rip Esselstyn, Jim Carrey, National Geographic, Travel Channel, Discovery Channel, and MTV, to name a few. Jefe is also the director of photography for Austin City Limits Festival and Lollapalooza. There is one project, however, that’s been about five years in the making—and it’s picking up some serious momentum.
As the ultimate integration of everything the Greenhearts do, Jefe and Kelly conceived the idea to produce a children’s television show. Inspired by PeeWee’s Playhouse, Mr. Roger’s Neighborhood, Captain Planet, Hook, The Goonies, and even Cirque du Soleil, the result was Mr. Greenheart’s Treehouse. Not only does it aim to provide quality programming to children, but it’s also intended to bring families closer together.
“I believe we have a responsibility to feed our families nourishing media that helps us all grow and thrive together.” Jefe says in their Kickstarter campaign video, which surpassed its fundraising goal with $35,000. Jefe and Kelly play Mr. Greenheart and Violet, respectively, in roles that aren’t too far off from their true selves. The pilot, which will be pitched to networks in early 2017, was shot at Cypress Valley Canopy Tours, a treehouse haven in Spicewood Springs.
Uncertainty lies ahead for Jefe and Kelly, but that’s never stopped them before. Emboldened by their adventures in the Amazon and beyond, the Greenhearts hope to make their mark on the current media paradigm—an especially impressive feat considering they don’t own a television.
Gretchen Goswitz 