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| LETTERS TO KARA |
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Who is Kara?
Kara is my journal of 14 years, named after the heroine of Scott O' Dell's book, the Island of the Blue Dolphins. In 1998, parts of my journal were published in my first book, Kara: Letters and Stories. Four years ago, Kara, which also means face in Filipino was published online here.The journal, like my life, is undergoing change. This is only a continuum. |
| Just Yesterday |
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| Long Long Ago |
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| Inspiration |
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| Desperation |
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| Kindred Spirits |
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| Gratitude |
Blogspot Template
Text and photos by Shelley Jo Rojas Saracin, unless otherwise specified.
The reader may lift poems, essays, or quotes (in part on whole) from this journal for personal use,
provided that he or she give due credit to the author whenever and wherever said text may be used. |
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| 20 May 2008 |
| Chocolatier |
Dear Kara,
One of my favorite movies is entitled "Chocolat", and it is where I first actually felt that I wanted to try being a Chocolatier.
The process seemed so easy: cook the chocolate, add some sweetness and love, a few spices, and voila! A creamy and sumptuous piece of chocolate!
This was what I had in mind when, a few weeks ago, I tumbled upon a recipe for Chocolate Truffles that seemed easy enough, considering that i have been doing quite a number of cooking and baking recipes in my 27 years.
Excited, I decided to give truffle-making a try. And here are the results:
1) First, I made the chocolate ganache too dark.
 It was my first time to make the base called chocolate ganache, and since my basic recipe didn't call for sugar or any kind of neutralizing milk, I assumed that cream and chocolate along would make my truffles as smooth and tempting as the ones that come packaged in the stores. I was wrong. My first batch of chocolate ganache was creamy indeed, but it was, well, unpalatable, as the cocoa was much too dark to become the tempting chocolate sweet that chocolatiers are known for.
2) I never thought chocolatiers had such a hard time handling chocolate!
 No wonder chocolates are so expensive! My sweeter and creamier chocolate ganache seemed to be a success, however, I wasn't used to handling a panful of sticky, gooey, chocolate. Worse, I attempted to spoon it into my paper cups, and I couldn't. I had to resort to the most-advanced way of shaping truffles: by dropping finger-fuls (squeezing them out from my index finger and thumb) and creating peaks as the chocolate cooled! :) Luckily, I was able to make a few nice , err...designs and I had fun sprinkling the truffles with nuts and coconut.
3) Chocolate comes from the darkest, the most bitter cacao seeds, and it takes a whole lot of milk, sugar, and patience to come up with a sweet that delectably melts in your mouth, and makes people come back for more.
Just like most other things in life, anything bitter can be turned into something delectable with just a bit of imagination, creativity, patience, and love.
I'm off to take a whole batch of truffles to Lola Charit!Labels: essays, love, me, movies, musings, recipes |
posted by shing @ 10:52 PM  |
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| 16 May 2008 |
| Falling in Love Again |
Dear Kara,
I'm sure most Christians know the song "I keep Falling in Love." I have been raised in a home where both my parents sought to serve the Lord, and I have been a Christian for almost twenty years now, and yet, the song has never been sweeter that it has been this past week. I kept remembering its lyrics and humming it even as I worked washing the dishes, or did my evening rituals, or even as I went about my summer schedules.
Truly, falling in love with my Saviour "gets sweeter and sweeter as the days go by," especially since these past few days, I have felt such a sweet compelling to be reading His Word. No, not the compelling that prompts me just because "I must read the Bible" as a Christian should, but because every time I read even passages I had read through before, I knew specifically that the Lord was talking to me. It was as if "reading the Bible" was truly like reading letters from a long-distance lover, and each passage was specific, telling, and well, alive!
Some mornings I wake up and wonder, "What does the Lord want to say to me today?" So I pick up my Bible, and revel in His presence.
I have never felt so eager to be doing my devotions, and honestly, I was never into a regular habit of doing so...I used to just do it because I wanted to continue being fed by His Word.
These days, however, I just keep falling in love with Him.
I Keep Falling In Love D
I KEEP FALLING IN LOVE WITH HIM
A
OVER AND OVER AND OVER AND OVER AGAIN
I KEEP FALLING IN LOVE WITH HIM
D
OVER AND OVER AND OVER AND OVER AGAIN
D7
HE GETS SWEETER AND SWEETER AS THE DAYS GO BY
G
OH WHAT A LOVE BETWEEN MY LORD AND I,
D
I KEEP FALLING IN LOVE WITH HIM
A G D
OVER AND OVER AND OVER AND OVER AGAIN Labels: God, love, me, musings, songs |
| posted by shing @ 7:03 AM |
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| 12 May 2008 |
| Behold MACRO! |
I have missed doing photography. After high school graduation in 1998, and because I no longer had a darkroom wherein I could develop my photos and continue to practice my photography skills, I inadvertently stopped taking creative photographs...until I bought myself a birthday gift December of last year: my 3.2 MP Samsung camera phone.
I could've gotten myself just a camera, and a better one at that, but the kikay in me also wanted a phone that I could tote around, and a phone that could capture many things along my daily routes and not-so-daily travels.
I started taking creative chiaroscuro shots in UP Diliman when I started my MA classes there, and while I was still getting the hang of using a digital camera phone instead of a manual SLR like I was used to, I did like the feeling of looking at the world through the eyes of a photographer again.
Everything was beautiful. Every big thing had a little detail and a minute interesting facet. I was looking at the world through an artists eyes again.
And then last Saturday, I discovered MACRO. I never understood what it meant, since my phone did not come with a camera manual, so I simply kept it on the OFF switch, and assumed that there was nothing else I could do with a camera phone.
Lo and behold, a friend taught me that MACRO had the same effect that a manual SLR would have if you wanted a blurred background and a detailed, sharp foreground! Whee!
So at Balay Indang, I let my spirit free and took some shots that I myself would want to see in an album.
And, here they are...
          Labels: musings, photos |
| posted by shing @ 10:41 AM |
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| 09 May 2008 |
| Growing Up |
Dear Kara,
Someone I cared about as much as I cared about myself once told me that I am selfish.
It hurt like a red-hot cattle brand.
Today, I sit and think about it...I know I have been a selfish person...
I am young, vibrant, and passionate. I live for my dreams, I say what I want to say, I do what I want to do. This is the little girl that still lives inside of me.
But that little girl has also learned to love: to give more than what she is capable of giving, to trust without expectation, to accept someone because of their idiosyncrasies and faults, to be silent, to smile and to let go.
Most of us are selfish, I believe. We wore all born selfish babies always needing love, attention, care, sleep, and an unending supply of milk to nourish us. (post was started on 4/26/07, 10:49 AM)
But we cannot be babies for life. We need to grow, to first learn how to take baby steps, then to learn how to talk, to listen. And then, when our bodies have grown up enough to be able to sustain the daily grind, we need to learn that the world does not revolve around us at all. Even when we are in love. (post finished more than a year later... 05/09/08, 05:51 PM)Labels: essays, love, me, musings |
| posted by shing @ 5:51 PM |
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| 07 May 2008 |
| Cleaning |
Dear Kara,
I have been sneezing all day partly due to a viral attack, but mostly due to some summer general cleaning that I have been doing all day.
With only four weeks left before my classes and teaching commence, I decided to clean out my part of the room, throw away old magazines, used readings and handouts, and weed out old clothes and recyclable stuff from my storage bins.
I used to be such a pack rat...uhmmm...I still am, but I believe my "pack-rattedness" has diminished significantly. Whereas I used to spend days cleaning out my belongings while alternately reading through sentimental stuff and halfheartedly deciding which ones to throw away and which ones to keep, now I only think two beats..."do I still need this?" and when the answer comes as a resounding no...I chuck it into a garbage bag. Hence my much, much, much cleaner room.
Granted, I still have a shelf-full of books in various genres, two ginormous native baskets filled to the brim with children's books, boxes of mementos, notes, art supplies, letters, stuffed animals, shoes, clothes...but I am truly happy that I was able to weed out so much junk today, aside from the rather large colonies of dust bunnies I unearthed under my bed and drawers. :D
 Cleaning is therapeutic. It helps you remember the things you used to like, the clothes that used to fit you, restaurants you tried and liked, colors that you once thought suited you, magazines you used to quote, people who used to care for you, shoes that were once shiny new. Cleaning helps you rethink new outfits that would best compliment your body shape, it reminds you of a goal you once scribbled on notepaper and stashed somewhere. It re-acquaints you with stylish bags you had forgotten on mornings when you were late for class, reminds you of poetry compilations unfinished, of books you want to re-read on the remainder of your summer break, of prayers you wrote on devotionals. Most of all, cleaning makes room for all things new. All things that in time, will slowly but surely come into your life. Labels: essays, love, me, musings |
| posted by shing @ 8:05 PM |
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| 05 May 2008 |
| Diversity and Commonness |
Dear Kara,
I just came from a refreshing, relaxing, and restful weekend at my friend's home in Batangas City.
I really do not know how to start, or what to say, but I only want you to know that I had a grand time, and that many of the things I had been pondering on have been answered in a matter of days.
I attended church with Ruthie and her family this Sunday, which was a warm respite from the many many Sundays I had been spending here in the Metro helping out in our tiannge, and worshipping in our church. The revelation was simple: at their smalltown church, we sang a song which I distinctly remember having sung a few years ago, when I was still recovering from my emotional distress. It was a simple Tagalog song which talked about God's redeeming, everlasting, all-consuming love, a lovesong, a lullabye for those who are weary and sick of this world's notion of love, from Christian men or otherwise.
I had always cried whenever I sung this song, and last Sunday, I cried once again for the love I had lost, and for the bright shiny love that the Lord is offering me, me, who was dinghy and gray... :')
DI KA NAGKULANG IKAW LANG ANG PAG-ASA KO
TANGING IKAW ANG BUHAY KO, HESUS
KAHIT MAY SULIRANIN MAN
PALAGI KONG AAWITAN
IKAW LAMANG
KORO:
KAHIT KAILAN DI KA NAGKULANG
BIYAYA MO SA AKI'Y LAGING LAAN
PAG-IBIG MO SA AKI'Y WALANG HANGGAN
INIBIG MO AKO NOON PA MAN
KAYA'T IKA'Y SASAMBAHIN
PALIGID MAN AY MAGDILIM HESUS
KAHIT AKO'Y NANGANGAMBA BASTA'T
IKAW AY KASAMA
PANATAG NA
The rest of the weekeend, Ruthie and I spent just talking, and simply finding companionship and acceptance as sisters, as friends with as much diversity as there is commonness.Labels: God, love, me, musings, songs |
| posted by shing @ 9:40 PM |
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| 01 May 2008 |
| the Strongest of the Strong |
Dear Kara,
I know I said that "I would enjoy this new journey alone but not lonely" but there are days when I just can't help it. There are days when even the strongest of the strong need to be taken care of.
I felt this yesterday, after a messy and rather emotional resignation process at this sleazy summer job Korean company I tried working for as an online English Writing tutor. The reason for my resignation: I was trying to protect my rights, because this Korean company (no offense to Koreans) was trying to squeeze out every unfair bit of a right from me (Jackie was with me), and I had to be in full-armor, ready to fight, protective mode. In fact, I had to be more than that, I already had to take an offensive.
Walking home, I again felt so alone. I suppose it was due to this release of so much energy and adrenalin that caused this. I felt that I could actually use being taken care of...it is stressful trying to protect oneself from so may things everyday, as I have been doing: protecting my feelings from beig too expposed lest I break my heart again, protecting my bag from being snatched when I commute everyday, protecting myself from being mugged when I go home late at night, protecting my rights when I feel that an injustice has been performed in any are of my life...all this protecting can make you feel so...tired.
In fact, yesterday, I was already willing to give up my strong, able front if someone would just step up and say he will protect me. Funny, how even the strongest of the strong are willing to submit, in exchange for a commitment to be cared for, to be protected all of their life.
"Are you there God? It's me, Shing..."Labels: love, musings, teaching, writing |
| posted by shing @ 6:48 AM |
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