By Hilda Martinsen Neihardt
The daughter of a world financier, Mona Martinsen used to be a tall, remarkable, visionary sculptor learning in Paris with the popular Auguste Rodin. The son of an American pioneer kinfolk at the nice Plains, John G. Neihardt was once a brief, fantastic, yet impoverished poet and author. It gave the impression of a giant mismatch, but either have been irresistibly attracted to an identical issues. before everything as in spite of everything, it was once a keenness for good looks and a party of the really good that sure Mona and John. whereas learning sculpture and showing in Paris, Mona Martinsen used to be captivated via a bit publication of poems, A package of Myrrh, a present from her mom. Mona wrote to the younger poet, he answered, and during a chain of letters the poet in Bancroft, Nebraska, and the sculptor in Paris, France, chanced on a lot in universal. Drawing on correspondence, interviews, archival learn, and her personal thoughts, Hilda Martinsen Neihardt tells the tale of ways the sculptor and the poet met, fell in love, raised a kinfolk, and grew previous jointly. hot and revealing, this undying love tale will pride the admirers of John G. Neihardt and light up the existence and paintings of the artist Mona Martinsen. (20061112)
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Additional resources for The Broidered Garment: The Love Story of Mona Martinsen and John G. Neihardt
She felt only gratitude as she recalled his promise and his friendly assurances. “What a ﬁne young man,” she mused, “How old might he be? Twenty-ﬁve or so? I do like him. I trust him. Yes, for some reason I trust Mr. Martinsen. Ada will be safe; he will see to that. ” Mary Thorpe, Grandmother 39 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 3 Rudolf Vincent Martinsen Much has been written about the romantic attributes of an ocean voyage, and some travelers have ventured so far as to claim that during every crossing of an ocean, love—passionate love—ﬂowers.
Being unusually hungry, they hurried to the kitchen for breakfast. Rosita had noticed Ada’s reluctance at dinner the evening before, and she thought it best not to put any of the good hot sauce on the eggs she served her. Rosita had scrambled the eggs, and she showed Ada how to roll them up in the tortilla. ” Ada caught on at once, picking up the warm tortilla and biting off one end. “I like it, Rosita! ” After breakfast, Ada, now quite at home with her hostess, asked, “Senora Cortez, can I go outside?
I have seen that happen, back home. ” Ada’s experience in life did not allow her to fully understand what her mother had said, but she did feel sorry for the neglected families. The two Adas continued to walk around the town for a while, then returned to Rosita’s. At supper they ate only lightly, then went early to bed, ﬁnding that the day and a half spent riding in the desert and their walk around the town had left them quite weary. In fact, they were so tired that the rude mattress on their bed seemed almost comfortable.