“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

I hemmed and hawed, decided after talking with Rob that I really didn’t want to do any shows at all, so I wrote one letter so informing Prentice. In the meantime I was impatiently waiting Frank Longwell who promised the Tuesday earlier that he’d be here before Sunday with the final plans for extending the living room. He never came.

Enjoyment instead of responsibility: I determined to try that out Saturday, and I did enjoy myself writing a new poem; the theme—pleasure! I also typed up a few pages of material (on the Sinful Self.) Still, no Frank Longwell.

Sunday AM it was nearly raining. Rob fixed my hair. Still no Frank Longwell, but that afternoon I suddenly wrote one poem and began another that fascinated me. Was it somehow already translated Sumari? Connected with the Speakers Manuscript, maybe with some other material I’d been getting lately? And I kept scribbling The Pleasure Principle in my small notebook. What did that mean? In the bedroom for a nap I did another verse of the poem and suddenly understood that physically I’d gotten in the habit of identifying myself with pain instead of pleasure. So obvious once I realized it, but the insight made several issues clear at once.

(Frank Longwell visited yesterday noon. [...]

(10:36.) A note to Frank Longwell, by the way—that all in all he is handling the events of his life well at this time. [...]

(Frank Longwell visited this noon, and I read him Seth’s material from my notes. [...]

[...] I’m dancing at a swank dance floor with a younger man with dark darting eyes that now remind me of Frank Longwell, Jr. I know I’ve seen him once before and that he’s a thief. [...]

[...] I was with Jean Longwell, the daughter of our friend Frank. [...]

Jean Longwell then represented Frank’s feelings toward his daughter, and in a fashion you felt those as your own — a mixture of paternal love, sexuality, and sympathy. [...]

[...] I thought it a good idea, myself, so when she slept until 10:30, and then became busy talking to Frank Longwell about the conversion of our front porch to a glassed-in affair, I didn’t ask that she try any. [...]

[...] Frank Longwell just went out back again, to finish working; the huge yellow back-hoe moves outside the kitchen window; the air suddenly turns dark; the sun disappears; an odd cast of light covers everything; stormy, evocative. [...]

[...] Frank Longwell visited today.

[...] On Friday noon Frank Longwell visited. [...]

(We also agreed to try to get something for Frank Longwell, who has embroiled himself in a bind with taxes, business, “the Edgecomb affair,” and related troubles, mostly unknown to us until very recently.

[...] We come then to Frank Longwell.

(This noon Frank Longwell visited briefly, and agreed to take down the damaged Chinese elms in the back yard, till the soil, and put in wild flowers. [...]

(I told Jane that I hoped Frank Longwell had gotten his young friend to mow the grass this afternoon, as he’d promised to do this morning, but nothing doing. [...]

[...] Frank Longwell cited a case whereby his brother Waldo obtained encouraging answers to a set of business problems that had been bugging the Longwells for some time. [...]

[...] Marguerite Bumbalo visited, and Ellsbeth, and Frank Longwell [twice]. [...]

(Later I told Jane of a remark Frank Longwell had made the other day, after I’d explained to him that she’d been having a very rough time this month. [...]

[...] Frank Longwell visited at 11:30 AM, while I ate lunch. [...]

[...] We didn’t get to discuss it much because Frank Longwell visited. [...]

[...] On March 31, Frank Longwell came over with his power saw and helped clear the driveway enough so I could get the car out. [...]

(“Will you give us the entity names for Frank Longwell and his wife?”)

[...] As I left the house, I was greeted in the driveway by Frank Longwell, who was checking up on whether I was watering the back yard and the new tree the way he told me to.

[...] And with that Fred sat down in the wood chips beside the stump that Frank Longwell had placed for us when he’d built the back porch for us. [...]

[...] His bags sat there on the ramp Frank Longwell had made for Jane’s chair. [...]

(Frank Longwell visited today. [...]