“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

One involved spectacular color. I lay down to try a projection one Friday afternoon last January — my last projection experiment for the winter. Rob was out. It was another dreary day with veils of light rain falling. I was just beginning the final draft of this book and told myself that I could have an excellent projection to use in this section. I specifically requested a projection within the room, rather than to an outside location.

I fell asleep and dreamed that Rob had just come home and had begun to redecorate the room. Though I was surprised to see him, I accepted without question the fact that he was home early and did not realize I was dreaming at this point. Instead, I found the room transformed with spectacular color such as I’d never seen before — brilliant, shimmering, alive and richer than I ever imagined color could be. Everything in the room took on this fantastic other-color life. I felt myself drink it up, absorb it, in a way that’s most difficult to explain. The white walls were replaced by intricate colored wallpaper and drapes of velvet. The colors seemed to have a natural life themselves, glowing from within, throbbing with vitality.

I went back into the front room, now almost realizing my state. “Rob, this isn’t really our apartment, is it?” I asked. I looked around again. “I must be dreaming. That plant by the window sill isn’t ours. It must be an hallucination.”

“You’re normally awake,” Rob said. “The plant is ours. You just forgot about it.” So I accepted his statement and never even wondered that he might be a thought-form of mine.

Other adventures followed: Rob disappeared, and I found myself walking along a strange outside corridor, like a public path, only high in the air. Other people passed, all dressed in delightful long flowing trousers and gowns of indescribable colors. Looking down, I saw that I was wearing a beautiful pair of trousers of some clinging, bright material.

I returned to my body and experienced a false awakening in which Rob spoke to me. I couldn’t wait to open my eyes to see what the room looked like and if the colors were still present. Instead, the room was faded by contrast.

“Rob, I had the wildest experience, but unfortunately I’m back now because all that great color is gone,” I said; and I told him what happened. As I finished speaking, something caught my eye — the wallpaper. While it was not as colorful as it had been earlier, neither was it the white painted wall that should have been there.

Actually, I was only remotely aware of the difficulties of my hand. Instead, my mind was filled with memories of the spectacular colors I had seen. For a moment, I was almost enthralled as I partially recalled them out of the nowhere into which they had vanished. I had to go downtown to meet Rob for grocery shopping, so I dressed quickly. But it seemed that all the color had drained away from the world. Walking downtown, I was depressed. It was weeks later before I regained my normal feelings for our apartment. In the meantime, it seemed insufferably dreary. For that matter, so did the rest of the world. I’ve had normal dreams that were in vivid color, but nothing like that, and at no other time has my usual earthly environment been bathed in such iridescence.

[Here Seth went into some material that was highly interesting to Rob:]

Last Thursday, May 6, 1971, 1 took an hour nap in the late morning. No suggestions were given. It was another dark day, and the air was full of moisture. I “came to” in Rob’s studio. I was standing before the open window, looking out at the pear tree, but it was the air itself that captured my attention. It was transparent as always but thick as Jell-O.