With her sleek black hair, flawless coppery tan skin, beautiful toned body, Celeste Thorson could be written off as the typical super-model, actress, Hollywood elite. But Celeste Thorson is more than a pretty face, she is the foremost Asian/Latina Renaissance woman. Perhaps, you are wondering: what is a Renaissance woman? A Renaissance woman pursues her interests with intense, fervent passion. She will not be mediocre for she must be the best. She embraces her whole self and uses her heritage and interests as inspiration. While many women are talented in one area, Celeste Thorson, the quintessential Renaissance woman, pursues a variety of endeavors—writing, modeling, acting, producing—so that she can continuously reinvent herself as aRenaissance woman.
As a Renaissance woman, Celeste Thorson also serves as an encourager for women, especially Asian and Latina women. Her career empowers other women to experiment with new genres of creativity. Throughout her Hollywood career, she finds new avenues for allowing her muse to speak. Whether she is writing the next script or producing an entertaining television show or showing off exciting travel destinations, she focuses upon the creative process not just the end product. As a Renaissance woman, her goal is to discover her hidden potential from within her soul.
Now you may still have a touch of green-eyed jealousy, Celeste Thorson has more opportunities to be a prized Renaissance woman—she is living her dream in Hollywood as a model and actress. What about me? Rather than envying Celeste, why not begin looking for ways to unlock your hidden creative muses? You can look to Celeste Thorson’s career as an inspiration because she didn’t whine or pout or complain about the lack of opportunities available.
She worked hard and invested in constantly inspiring
her creative genius which is why Celeste Thorson
is the perfect Renaissance woman.
I’m not a fan of horror movies( I consider Jurassic Park a horror film), but I AM aware if I were to ever be in a horror that certain phrases should not come out of my mouth. Such as: “We are safe here,” “Let’s go check it out,” and my personal favorite…“How bad can it be?” Yeah, I uttered those words after accepting a blind date invitation from my now husband(so it DOES work out).
We agreed to meet at Applebee’s(he continues to joke that Applebee’s is the best place to pick up women, maybe one day the joke will die). The first thing I noticed was that he was tall–very tall. I’m all of 5’4″ compared to his 6’4″. Rather than eating at Applebee’s, we headed to the Lobsteer Inn in Southern Pines. Since this will mean nothing to most people, the Lobsteer Inn is EXPENSIVE, and I was operating on a Ramen noodle budget.
What was worse than the sticker shock of ALL the dishes was that I was bored, felt awkward, and may have stated frequently that I was bored(rude, yes, no excuse here). The “I’m bored”s got progressively louder(why he asked for a second date after my lovely behavior is BEYOND me). After the usual movie portion of an awkward first date, he took me back to my apartment. I was determined that this was NOT a lasting relationship.
OBVIOUSLY, I married him so yet AGAIN I was wrong. Happens often.
I joined iFellowship to gather, commune, and read other wonderful bloggers.
I HEART reading! Love, adore, passionate about all things with PAPER AND TEXT(excuse the hyperbole, there are texts that I do NOT enjoy but I’m only celebrating my favorites). Since I teach college reading, I am often asked: What are YOU reading? I also read multiple books at one time. Currently, I’m reading Pride and Prejudice and Zombies by Jane Austen and Seth Grahame-Smith(I love parody), Miracles by C.S. Lewis(I love deep intellectual writings about my faith).So, today I pose the same question to you:
What are YOU reading?
“Let me not to the marriage of true minds, admit impedments.” Sonnet 116 William Shakespeare
Ahh, the Bard, Shakespeare in my mind signifies romance, love, and some well-written iambic pentameter(What I’m an English major/teacher/ lover all of literature). Like many college girls, I daydreamed about finding my soul mate–the first date would be a picnic with him reading me poetry as the warm breezes blew and the birds sang. And that is nothing like what happened.
I didn’t meet my soul mate in college or even the first year out of college. I was teaching high school English when during my sophomore honors class my student asked if I would be interested in going on a blind date. She then gushed about how nice this guy was, etc, and in the end, she gave my number to her mother who gave it to her boss who gave it to her husband who gave to his best friend( did you get all that?) Mark. At this point, I uttered the worse string of English words ever to be spoken in a sentence–How bad could it be? Oh, wait,that spelled impeding doom.
Tonight, I’m restless, sleep eludes me. My mind is filled with half-written poems, blogs, and snatches of literature, but tonight I need to write this confession. Here it is: I’m a step-mom. I have two beautiful children by marriage because I have not given birth to any of my own. Already, some of you reading this have demonized me, made me into the “other” woman who is nothing but a man-stealer. I’m not. I will readily relate the whole incident, but not in this post(quite funny, I might add the story). I’m a step-mom. These are some of the struggles.
My struggles are not most mothers struggles. Most mothers don’t understand how it feels to have your children lie about you to their birth mother, or understand the grace needed not react to this(I don’t always act gracefully). Most mothers don’t have to fumble around and defend their right to be called “mother” even though these children live full-time with me–I do the laundry, cooking, cleaning, story time, and any illnesses. Yet, I will always be just the “stepmom.” Most mothers do not have to hide the pain when your child makes the school craft project, gives it to me, then says “no, it is for mom” and gives it away. Stepmothers are treated differently, frowned upon, second class citizens in the mothering world.
As a defense mechanism, I hide these feelings–locked away, where no one sees or feels this. Secure in the position that I am alone, and no one else understands. Struggles are not easy, nor will I sugar coat them in a high fructose corn syrup kind of faith. But there is hope. I have faith that in the end His grace is still sufficient. For now, that is the only hope I have.