Yeah, I usually don’t post crafts on my blog but I’m in love with this creation. It was so cheap and easy to make I wanted to share it with you.
Why do iPad covers go for $30-$100? I just wanted something so the screen didn’t get scratched. Here is something I made for $2.24 in supplies. Plus if it tears or gets too warn, I can easily replace it.
Material Needed:
Composition book
Stretch elastic 1/4″ wide or wider
Super glue
Painters tape
Hole punch
Box cutter or X-acto knife
Using a box cutter cut along the stitching of the spine. Remove the paper.
Cut 4 strips of stretch elastic. Use painter’s tape to seal down of each corner. I recommend painters tape because there will be some tweaking involved to have the loops in place to where you want them and the painter tape comes off easily without tear the back cover.
Affix the loops with super glue. I kept the painters tape on mine for reinforcements. So far it hasn’t needed it.
I let the glue dry while laying underneath two heavy books for pressure.
Insert iPad wrapping a loop around each corner.
Using a hole punch, make a hole in the back for the camera.
Now you have a cool ipad cover that folds back easily and can be kinda be used to prop up the ipad.
You can also use the comp book as a template and glue on a fabric or decorative paper inside and out.
I watched “love the beast” a documentary about Eric Bana and the love of his first car.
Now,I’ve been having trouble sleeping, I twisted my foot tonight and I’ve been downloading too many new apps for my iPad (one of them being WordPress) so I though I’d have a go at an impromptu post. So many of my posts are obsessed over and thought out to the point of they ever see the light of day because I’m too picky. Maybe this should be one of those posts, maybe not.
My parents were gear heads. Bring them to a car show and they will show you a glimpse of their 20-something self. My dad built cars and fixed cars. My mom owned some of the coolest muscle cars. Then they had me and we had more reliable forms of transportation.
My brother was taught how to fix cars. I wanted to learn but it wasn’t for girls. I regret that I only know how to change a tire, even that I fail at. I always wanted to get under a car and change the oil, reak of motor oil and transmission fluid. I wanted a real reason to come inside and use that Lava soap.
Even though I don’t know all the lingo of a real gear head I did learn how to truly love cars. Many of our cars had names. We’d try to cheer them on to start in the dead of winter. We’d yell as them when they oveheated and left us stranded. We cried when we sold them or crashed them.
I said goodbye to my first car. It died in the desert between Los Angeles and Vacaville. Overheated, blew the engine cost twice as much to fix then it was worth. That first car I bought for my dad for $1. It got me from Michigan to California. That car was my ticket to an adventure. There were nights I slept in that car. I would escape the mall where I worked and have lunch in that car to get away from people. It was a little white Plymouth Neon. Cute, spunky and sporty. I dinged it up a few times, living in LA will do that to a car. It was a reminder of home and a gateway to the future. I wasn’t just a machine it was a part of my past and future. It failed at times just as I did. It was scared of the hills of Venture highway, just as I was.
So I’m not surprised that tonight I found myself crying and really connecting to “Love the Beast” a documentary following Eric Bana as he talks about his 25 year ownership of his first car the Falcon XB. If you are not familiar it’s the same car in Mad Max. It’s a muscle car.
In the doc we see Bana and his mates work on the car through the years. Their link unbroken by getting together and fixing up this one car. They race the car a few times to great success. Bana because more of a success in films, he still gets together with his mates to work on the car and race. They went through many restorations in the 25 years. The final restoration is to get the car ready for a race on closed streets with mixed turain. He ends up crashing the car. The rest of the doc is Bana wondering if he should fix the car again.
This is where I cry. That car means so much to him. To the point he’d rather have broken bones than see his car destroyed. A car isn’t always just a car, it is a part of you. It’s a love.
It makes me think of broken dreams and paths not taken. Abandoning yourself because times get too hard. Something, anything you spend 25 years with is hard to let go. It showed me that everything is fixable. Mechanical, spiritual, physical or otherwise. Don’t walk away, don’t give up on something that means so much. If something is broken in your life fix it. I only wish everything was as easy to fix as a car.
A New Year. An opportunity for a new start? I don’t really need a new start, just a plan to keep the awesomeness going and keep myself centered on what matters.
Film projects for 2012
Ingénue – feature sci-fi
Directions – short, comedy
Here’s Moses! – webseries, spin-off from Love Dance, director
Untitled All Female Creative Project – webseries, director
“The Women of Starbase Indy” – documentary, director
Writing Projects for 2012
Mythic waters – Young Adult fantasy novel
Ingenue Diary – Non-Fiction
I Blame Lucas – movie memoir
Things to promote in the New Year
Karmic Courage Collection DVD
Leah Not Leia DVD
Love Dance – screenings and DVD
Home Security/The Collective – screenings, reviews and DVD
Ingenue
Mythic Waters
In the New Year I need to remember to say something in all my work. Make sure it has a message. I can have a message that isn’t in tent pole movies. I can make something more daring, more enlightening, more thought-provoking like the movies I used to watch as a kid. I have to give myself permission to make a film that people will want to watch over and over again because they get something new out of it each time.
I have to remember that people are gonna hate. They will want to strike me down because they feel competition, jealously, or see in me something they hate in themselves. I can’t please everyone. I just do the best I can and let the chips fall where they may. Stay away from flame wars, they only hurt everyone.
I do have to continue to remove myself from those who are unhealthy for the person I want to be. I’m a sponge at times and absorb other people’s energy. I need to remember to stay away from the idiots who don’t know what they are doing or have nothing to say. Remove myself from people who are negative and push other people down to make themselves feel bigger. Keep away from people who are trying to harm me or my family. Stay away from those who spend more time bad mouthing others than working on creating their own work.
I need to remember that it’s not about the money. How much I have, how much a friend’s film makes, about how high the budget is. I’ve made more with less. I’ve had better creative outlets knowing there is little to no money to throw at it. Money doesn’t equal better. Money also doesn’t buy class. Working on another person’s film just for the money doesn’t mean I will be treated well or even respected for the work I put into the project.
It’s not about how many films I work on in a given year anymore. I want to focus on the quality not the quantity. 2011 was the first year that Karmic Courage had in production or screening 4 projects. The goal has always been 2-3 projects in a year. I still think that is a good number.
I do want to garner a wider fan base. I do want to reach out of Indiana. I think travel will help. I don’t want to leave Indiana just have a wider perspective of writing and filmmaking.
I want to get more independent in my filmmaking and not have to worry if the right equipment will be able to get on set. I’d like to be able to just come up with an idea on a Friday and shoot it that weekend.
My Superhero Family
I have to remember that I only have a few years left of being at home. I only have a few years left for this filmmaking dream. I need to show my girls that is was worth it, that I did some great stuff in that time and that they helped me and motivated me to do my best with the opportunity I had. I need to be able to show them that it’s worth fighting and working hard for your dream even if you need to walk away from it at some point.
I’d like to blog more. Not sure about what exactly but I’d like to write more. Even if they are little film enlightenment pieces, I think it would be nice.
I’d like to do the best I can. I know I’ll anger people in the New Year but I also make some new amazing friends. I’ll have some adventures and setbacks. I’ll see my children grow and my parents get older. I’ll learn more about my complex husband and fall in love a little deeper. It will be a good year, like all the rest. I’m moving forward with the path I’ve worked hard for and that is the best I can. No longer looking back but striving to do better.
Inspired by “Walk, Idiot, Walk” by the Hives, I wrote a fictional story of a make up artist on a film shoot from hell.
The alarm went off at 4am, there was no way I wanted to spend another day on the indie film set from hell. The promise of money and my reputation in the indie film world was the only thing that got my tired ass out of bed.
The last 3 days had been a cluster fuck to say the least. Actors dropped out, costuming didn’t arrive, we were behind schedule, and we were out of money. It wasn’t my problem I was in charge of make up. I had my kit, my team and I knew the script. What I didn’t have was a clue to what the newbie director wanted.
Grayson Armstrong, apparently Gods new gift to filmmaking – or so he thought. Grayson had never made a movie before, never went to film school but he was sure he could bring something new to the ever-plentiful world of Horror; a.K.a. the most over-done genre being done in filmmaking to date. My guess he had these delusions of grandeur was because he watched a horror film or two and thought, how hard can it be?
This was my fifth straight horror film to do make up on. Green zombies, ghost zombies, clown zombies, black and white Romero zombies, I could do the make up in my sleep. Every director thought they were bringing something new to zombies but on each set they asked the same damn design from me.
“I want them to look like ‘Night of the Living Dead’ but better” they would say.
Grayson wrote the script while he was drunk and high with mutual colleagues of mine. It was his first script.
“It was a first script that a film school would have told him to throw away and now write a real script,” the Gaffer said to me.
Max, the Gafffer, who handled the lights, went to USC film school and had three scripts in progress in his car at any given moment.
Most film school people were this way. I went to St. Anne’s Beauty School on the south side so I guess I had an edge of distaste for people with no training who thought they could do what I do.
Grayson had the only things it matters to make a movie anymore – had a friend who had a camera, connections and an internet connection. Facebook was the wicked source that drug us into this project. I swear Grayson went through Geoff friends list and coned us all into this shoot. Geoff, the camera man, wasn’t a super friend of mine but he was making a good deal of films and he and I had worked together on a few. I saw the crew and cast list grow with more friendly names. I asked about pay. Grayson offered me more than I asked for so I took the gig.
One production meeting that pretty much was just a script read later and we were on set. Crew call was at 6am at a little run down shack in the middle of nowhere. There was no coffee on set when I arrive and more importantly no actors. The first actor call wasn’t until 7am and I needed to get 3 key actors in full make up ready to shoot by 7:30pm.
Surprise, surprise, there was a wait on set for make up. The Assistant Director was all over my ass that we were already behind schedule and we hadn’t got our first shot off. As calm as a mouse, I let him know that I sat around for an hour ready to do make up but there was no actors. Then when they arrived the director wanted to talk about their motivation which involved…
DIRECTOR: You ready for today?
ACTOR: Dude, yeah, sure.
DIRECTOR: Alright let’s get you into make up.
ACTOR: Where do I get coffee?
When time is being crunched due to improper planning everyone on set suddenly has ideas. Even the dude holding the slate will have an idea of how to do a quick zombie make up to get 15 zombies ready for a shot in an hour.
“I saw this on a behind the scenes, once,” the slate dude started.
I would fuzz them all out. The second I stopped and listed to the ideas they had the more they would slow me down because nothing can just be done it all has to go through the channels. It has to go through the Script Supervisor to make sure there is continuity to the shots already in the can. It has to go through the Assistant Director to make sure there is time. Then it has to go to the director for his approval. Each one of the those conversations has another handful of ears listening in who – of course – all have another idea of how I can do my job faster. This process of figuring out what to do with the fact that there is a hold on an actor who is in make up is mute because by the time the circle-jerk conversation has finished and got back to me, I’m done with the 15 zombies and they are ready to shoot. That is until they have to tweak the lights because the camera man isn’t totally happy yet.
So with my job done, I sit by a monitor – if there is one – in this case there wasn’t. Only a 2×3 LCD monitor off the junky camera to look through to make sure the actors weren’t shinny or messed up their face by sneezing or touching their face.
Grayson was dead weight, my wiener dog Rocky can give more direction than Grayson. The actors did their lines the same as they did at the table read, the same I’m sure they did at the auditions. Actually I’m not sure they did auditions, I’m sure it was all whoever was available on facebook and on Geoff’s friend list.
Simple questions were asked of Grayson.
“Do you want another take?”
“Was that what you wanted?”
A silence that I wished was filled with nails on a chalkboard filled the air. Inside I screamed “Answer, the damn question!”
After a long pause the answer was always “it was fine.”
Nothing thrilled Grayson except his own reflection. He’s pose for pictures near the camera every chance he could. He arrived on the set acting like JJ Abrams. He asked the media to come to set and we lost 2 hours while he talked to a reporter when we could have been shooting something.
By day 5, the production teetered on the edge of collapse. The AD was freaking out about the schedule; the actors couldn’t have the shoot extended because they had other gigs, day jobs or kids to get home to. Most people just wanted to get home and get away from what was becoming an ego-fest. That, and the fact Geoff started being the director. Which was needed, but confusing to everyone because of the assumed chain-of-command.
The schedule changed for the better for me. I got the actors in early and started. But then the actors were sitting around ready for a set that was being reconstructed to the camera man’s liking regardless of what was in the script. Grayson didn’t seem to flinch. I don’t know if it bothered him or he knew that his lack of experience was starting to show.
Actors being actors, want everyone to like them because it leads to their next job. Plus as Maria said to me between takes “it doesn’t matter shoot sucks, if I look good on my reel, it’s all worth it.” I wished that was true but on some sets it’s not worth it.
I packed up m kit for the last time on day 6. I got the last actor on call to set on time. I packed a little touch up kit in a ziplock bag just in case. I wanted to just hand the bag to the AD and wish him well but I stuck around for my money.
At lunch I saw a few actors talking to the director, it looked like they were getting paid.
I waited until I could talk to Grayson alone, I didn’t like brining up money in the first place but I really didn’t like doing it in front of others. Something about it always made me feel like a hooker.
When the AD called wrap on production I waited until Grayson got his hugs from the actors.
“Grayson, I need to jet, what about my pay is that now or…”
Grayson replied, “I had to pay the actors who were out of state, can I pay you next week?”
Like an idiot, I said yes. A week turned into a month. No emails, calls or facebook messages from Grayson. So I asked. The last of the money had to go into post-production. Then story changed to Grayson was flat broke but the promise of paying me after the premiere.
“This is what I need to get by” he said.
I waited six months. I bought three tickets so my family could come see my work. I cringed as I looked around the crowd. What was being hailed as a sold out show was anything but. The theater was half full. I doubted again if I would ever see my money.
Promises were written but never delivered on. DVD’s were made and sold but I never got a copy or got paid.
The horrible horror film that was more of a thriller with zombies went out to Grayson’s facebook friends who gave it glowing reviews. He sent it to festivals that Geoff knew so he would be a shoe in to show and win. The buzz machine was on full blast and no one ever talked about how much a mess the shoot was. No one from the crew ever worked with Grayson again. Geoff went off to direct his own projects. Max and I would work on other shoots together and we’d bitch but we were still working. Only those actors who firmly planted their lips to Grayson’s ass were attached to his new project, which for some reason could never find money.
But if you never learned nothing than nothing’s in order. I learned my lesson. Take projects for 3 reasons and 3 reasons only: for pay, for love or for fun. If it doesn’t fit into one of those perimeters, then you won’t see Gwen Roma’s name on it.
I’m back in the director’s seat again. This time it’s a short Horror film for The Collective V3 by Jabb Pictures. Production starts in early December. DVD release will be in March 2012 as part of the all female-directed Collective V3.
This song entry to National Novel Writing month is the White Stripes song “We Are Going to Be Friends” also sung by Jack Johnson for the Curious George movie soundtrack. It’s a simple story, I hope you like it.
Mom came from the corner store with paper bags filled to brim. Her face was stressed and so I helped her with the bags.
“Kid, you’re my ticket to the poor house,” she scoffed.
I helped her unpack the bags; shoes, pens, a coat and a school uniform. I tried not to look excited as I opened each item. Back to school was coming.
I said thank you because I think that’s what she expected as took the new items to my room.
That night I couldn’t sleep. The school bell echoed in my brain. School was my ticket to freedom, a chance to get out of the house from Mom and her abusive boyfriends.
Before the sun was up I had on my new uniform, had my bag backed and was ready to go. I knew it was hours before school was ready but I didn’t care.
Mom was snoring on the couch. I poked at her and whispered I was going to school. She moved slightly so I guessed she heard me. I didn’t want to wake her too much or she’d yell at me.
I jumped the fence in our yard and I was free. I wanted to crush every leaf on my way to school in triumph. I found a big oak tree in the park and gathered up the leaves and jumped in the pile.
“What are you doing?” a girls voice said.
I looked up to see a dark-haired girl with short pigtails. Her squashed face looked like a doll’s face. She was beautiful, for a girl.
“Can I jump too?” she asked.
I nodded and re-made the pile of leaves.
We jumped and screeched and giggled.
“My name is Suzy Lee” she said.
I nodded.
“Look a roly poly!” she said.
We dug up the ground with sticks looking for my rolly poly’s, worms and ants.
“We should get to school,” she said. “Will you walk with me?”
I nodded.
We safely walked to school without a sound.
When we arrived it still wasn’t time for school. The classroom’s were empty and the halls echoed. Suzy sat at the teacher’s desk as we played school. I got an “A” for listening but was in trouble for the dirt on my uniform.
Suzy said we should clean up. She picked the leaves out of my hair while I washed the dirt off. Then we heard kids starting to fill the halls.
“Time for school!” Suzy exclaimed.
Suzy and I were in the same class, we sat side by side. I learned that she had moved here from Washington DC which is not a state. Teacher had us work on our numbers and letters and I learned that school was not spelled skool.
At playtime Suzy and I played catch and looked for more bugs before the teacher yelled at us.
The teacher marked our head against the wall. I was shorter than Suzy by a few inches but the teacher said not to worry, I’d grow tall and strong.
“Teacher?” I asked “Will I sing pretty like Suzy Lee one day?”
“I think you mean to say, ‘One day will I sing as pretty as Suzy Lee?’”
I nodded having no idea the difference.
“If you work at it, Jack, anything is possible.” The Teacher said.
It felt as soon as school had started it was over.
I walked Suzy home.
That night thoughts of bugs and the alphabet ran though my head. I hoped when I woke up that Suzy and I would walk together again because I think we are going to be friends.
On the way to work I glanced in a coffee shop window and saw today’s news talking about the surge in robberies in Vora and Noddnaba. People were claiming their most treasured items were being mysteriously stolen; retirement funds – gone, small business disappeared with only the concrete foundation left. Boat, planes all the toys of the rich and famous were gone. Nearly everyone had been robbed of something.
There was a sense of the End of Days. People were starting to cling closer to their belongings. There was a line around the bank for people trying to keep their valuables in safety deposit boxes. Others were taking things out of storage garages and burying them in their back yard. All over the city was chaos worse than the riots.
“What was stolen from you” a stern voice said as a microphone was shoved in my face.
It was Sharron Addison, a reporter from the evening news. Here platinum blond hair looked more like a plastic wig in real person than it did on TV.
“Nothing.” I said leaning into the microphone.
“Nothing?” she asked, trying to insult me. “Everyone lost something in last night’s attacks.”
“I saw the spirit sniper in my room and I guess I scared it off.”
“Spirit Sniper? Is that what they are called? Where did you get this information?”
“I read it on the wall”
“What wall?”
Crap. I was in Vora City if I revealed I saw it in Noddaba I’d be arrested for trespassing. I had to think of something quickly. “The wall behind Segrims & Sabbath” I uttered with as much confidence as I could muster.
“And what did it say exactly?” Sharron pushed.
“Beware of the Spirit Snipers, trying to steal your light.”
Sharron motioned to her camera man to cut. “We’ve got what we need, let’s check out that wall.”
“Wait.” I said. “There is no message there today.”
“What do you mean?” Sharron asked this time with anger in her voice.
“Well, the message changes. Some days there is nothing written on the wall, like today. And others days the message changes.”
“And how do you know this for sure.”
“I work there.”
“Perfect, you can take us” said Sharron grabbing my arm.
Surely enough when we arrived there was no message written on the wall by my work. I assured her of my story and she and her camera crew left. What had I done?
I had to find a way to put messages on that wall, but how and what?
I’ll be at the 4th Annual Local Author’s Book Fair at the Anderson Public Library with copies of my books and DVD’s. Come great some great personalized gifts for all your loved ones.
Here is the info:
The fourth annual local author book fair will have the largest contingent of area authors yet. Their books (and DVDs and CDs in some cases) will be available for purchase and for signing. Personalized books make great Christmas presents!
This year’s event will be held on two days, to coincide with the December Friends of the Library Book Sale. It will be on December 9 & 10, from Noon to 4:30 p.m. on both days.
Anderson Public Library, 111 E. 12th Street, Anderson, IN
The following area authors are scheduled to attend:
Ruth Shiness Brinduse
Toni Cantrell
Kate Chaplin
Elmore Hammes
Deborah Hester
Art Jaggard
Andrew Jones
Debra Kemp
Don McAllister
Donna Nobles
Jesse Reynolds
Violet Ryan
Tammy Sloss
Linda Teeple
Dawson Vosburg
Doug Welch and Dale Stultz (Church of God Historical Society)
Hi! I'm Kate! I'm a filmmaker, author, and public speaker.
My screenplays and upcoming novels contain mythic themes of strength, personal power and identity.
I do have two light non-fiction list books out called "The Celebration Diet" and "The Belief Test."
I've worked on a couple dozen indie films, a few of which have gone on to win some cool awards. I even run my own production company, Karmic Courage Productions.
I teach filmmaking and writing workshops at festivals, libraries and schools.
I hope you find what you are looking for on this blog, if not message me, I'm always looking to help out writers and filmmakers.
A New Year. An opportunity for a new start? I don’t really need a new start, just a plan to keep the awesomeness going and keep myself centered on what matters.
I have to remember that people are gonna hate. They will want to strike me down because they feel competition, jealously, or see in me something they hate in themselves. I can’t please everyone. I just do the best I can and let the chips fall where they may. Stay away from flame wars, they only hurt everyone.
