“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

‘In that probability, you, Rob, painted constantly and Jane had published a bunch of short stories, a novel and poetry even before this got started. Do you do this now?’

Jane and Rob glance at each other and laugh — a nasty, bitter laugh. ‘She still works all day at the taxi company’ Rob says, “and I work too. Want to come home and see the paintings I’ve done?’

I nod and we walk out of the restaurant — Seth trailing along behind. We walk down a shaded, quiet street and turn in at a large white house with a screened lower porch. There is a large tree to the left of the porch, and a weedy driveway leads back to a large white barnish-looking building with double top-hinged doors. We go up a set of outside stairs and into an apartment which seems to have a large living room. Rob is about to haul out some paintings — they seem to be landscapes — when he groans in agony and nearly falls down in pain from his back, apparently. He manages to lie down on the floor and I try to show him some yoga exercises for it, but he brushes me off. I suddenly feel desperate to do something for them before it all ends.

That Robert Butts did not continue his painting with any purpose, trying to be objective and sensible, lacking the understanding of his parents that you have achieved through sessions. He put security in financial terms above everything, took no chances at all along those lines, and despite this, of course, is not making much money because his heart was, with the painting, most largely abandoned.

You had planned for this as a temporary arrangement — six months, at most, to save money — then you were going to paint full time. Instead, however, you stayed, supposedly to aid your parents, but this was largely an excuse because you were afraid to take the chance and paint full-time and also afraid to give up the regular money, even though you had no rent to pay.