When the party’s over
where to go from here?
curl into a den of woe
and wait to disappear?
Breaths of life sustains me
when others fill my room
without their presence, the lonely heart
retreats within the womb
Why must I be so absent
in the carriage of myself
that I sit so idly dormant
on a dusty solo shelf
Do only I allow to see
myself through other’s eyes?
Surely there’s another way
than gowns that glamorize.
Years ago, I had the pleasure of meeting and training with Ann Wolfe, known as possibly the greatest female boxer of all times. She was tough, no-nonsense. Three of us had the chance to get inside the ring with her. Of course, she wasn’t going to punch us. It was all about our own offense. Needless to say, in that small ring, she was so fast, I couldn’t get even close to her.
After I was commissioned to paint her portrait, she told me that it reminded her of her mother — a wonderful compliment since she loved her deceased mother with total abandon. She told me she hung the original above her mantel.
Here is a great, short documentary on Ann Wolfe and her struggles to become a boxer. If rough language offends you, don’t watch. But if you like seeing how a woman survived the murder of her father, the death of a beloved mother and rose to the top, then watch.
Carolyn Dennis-Willingham 