“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

(The object for the 72nd envelope experiment was an empty envelope, as shown. I kept the letter that had been enclosed in the envelope for reference, and as expected needed it to decipher some of Seth’s data. The object was a standard white business envelope, printed and typed in black. The back was blank. I sealed it in the usual double envelopes after placing it between two pieces of Bristol board. Jane had seen the envelope in a casual way upon its arrival here last May, but not since then.

Two again, like a double exposure. It seems a definite connection with your studio. A bottom or middle drawer, next to something financial. And a small round object.

(Jane now opened the double sealed envelopes and examined the object, as she always does at break. At first it had little meaning for her, and as is often the case she said the data obtained pertaining to it was incorrect. True, the data was not as specific as it has often been, but it did contain a number of valid points. Some of these were subjective on our part.

(Seth helped us out with our interpretations after break, as sometimes happens. Whenever possible we prefer to make as many connections between the data and the envelope object as we can on our own. Our purpose in conducting these experiments in this manner is to see what Jane, or Seth, can pick up about a concealed object that bears some kind of emotional charge related to us personally. To this end, envelope objects are often deliberately chosen by me with emotional involvement in mind, since Seth has said many times that his abilities have an emotional basis; this primary emotional basis is then disciplined and given shape by the intellect.

(However, Seth has done as well with objects quite separated from the personal emotional life of Jane and mine. It doesn’t matter, either, whether Jane has ever seen the object before; or whether she saw it ten minutes before the session, or five years ago.

(Seth will occasionally comment about the lack of emotional impetus surrounding an object if I pick one that happens to bear little charge. I cannot be sure that I am choosing an object that carries little charge, however, for Seth’s data will often shoot off at an angle entirely unexpected by me. This data can be related to the envelope object in a variety of quite valid ways. I make no conscious effort to dwell on the object chosen for an envelope experiment, and when I do choose an object it is usually a spur-of-the-moment decision.

(See the tracing of tonight’s envelope object on page 71 and the notes on the next page. The empty envelope used as object was mailed to me last May 26,1966, by an old friend, Wendell Crowley, and contained a letter detailing a reunion of a group of friends, all artists, that Wendell and I worked with in 1941-43. The letter was not in the envelope but was kept separate by me for reference after the session. As I suspected, some of Seth’s data referred to the contents of the letter rather than the envelope object itself.

(Jane and I last saw Wendell Crowley perhaps seven years ago, but we keep up a correspondence on about a twice-a-year basis. We have not seen Wendell since moving here to Elmira, NY, six years ago. When Jane first read the Crowley-Taylor logo on tonight’s object it meant nothing to her, until I mentioned the name Wendell. Neither of us have met Wendell’s business partner, Mr. Taylor, or know anything about him—not even if he is still living.

(“A double, or something twice, or a negative.” Relatively little of the data refers to the envelope object itself. Instead the empty envelope from Wendell serves as a springboard. This data is a case in point. After break Seth agrees with Jane and me when we assign the double or twice mentioned here to the frequent use of the numeral 2 on the second page of Wendell’s letter.

(The negative mention in the data is interesting, and has several connections, both here and in the rest of Seth’s data. Jane and I did not think of negative in connection with the word no, for instance, but in relation to pictures or visual images. On page two of his letter Wendell tells about a friend who works for the Neilson TV survey people—having to do with pictures. But also, negative, meaning pictures, is called to mind because Wendell’s letter deals with a group of artists who worked together in a studio, drawing comic strips, in 1941-3. In addition I personally have a studio here in the apartment, and the envelope used as object was kept in this studio. These references about studios, pictures, and the object crop up again later in the data also.

(“Something standing vertical.” Jane said this referred to trees. Note that Wendell Crowley, who mailed us the object, is partner in a lumber company. Also, the object was mailed to us from Ridgewood, NJ, as shown by the postmark. After break Seth says this interpretation is correct.

(“It seems some connection with cars or transportation.” As stated, the object contained a letter describing the reunion of perhaps half a dozen artists who worked together in the early 1940’s. The reunion was attended by the writer of the letter. All of the reunion participants live in the New York City and New Jersey area just across the Hudson River. In his letter Wendell does not name the town or city in which the reunion, at a restaurant, took place, but from following data Jane and I surmise it took place in New York City.

(There is another possible travel connection here, depending upon interpretation. The envelope object is postmarked Ridgewood, NJ, which lies on the outer rim of the commuter towns attendant to New York City. The letter the object contained, however, was written by Wendell at his home in Edgewater, NJ, which is just across the Hudson from New York City. The two towns are at least 25 miles apart—a trip Wendell makes daily.

(“A string, as of lights, or pearls, in a string of succession, of items in succession.” We interpreted this as a possible reference to street lights at first, or a theater marquee, since the reunion was held at night, and nighttime travel would involve lights, etc. But “items in succession” could just as well refer to words in succession—i.e., the letter that had been enclosed in the envelope object or the printing and typing on the object itself.

(“The number four.” We seldom can make positive connections with single numbers. The number 4 appears three times on the empty envelope object. See the tracing on page 71.

(“Black and white colors.” The envelope object is white, with both the printing and typing on it in black ink. Wendell’s letter is also black and white, though his signature is in blue ink.

(“A photograph. Ruburt here thinks of the photographs taken in your studio, of him.” The picture data begins to emerge again. Seth here mentions some test photos I took of Jane in my studio here last week. Studio is the link here with Wendell’s letter, and hence the envelope object. In his letter Wendell specifically mentions the studio we artists shared back in 1941-3.

(“The photograph connection is strong [pause] but I do not believe the item is this precisely.” [Pause.] Seth tried to help Jane discriminate here, as he often does. Tonight’s object of course is not a picture or photo, but an envelope that contained a letter about people who make pictures. Also, I was taking pictures of Jane last week, as explained. Thus it can be seen how all such related data, even though separated by much time, comes together in these session experiments. This particular chain of association was not anticipated by me when I picked the Crowley envelope as object for tonight. The two studio settings—the studio I worked in with Wendell Crowley in 1941-3, and my present studio, are separated by as much as 23 years.

(“There seems to be a dual impression of printed matter with a photograph.” Seth comes even closer with this data. He deals with the photo-picture-artist impressions on the one hand, and the actual envelope object, containing both printing and typing, on the other. We regard this as good data. Tonight’s empty object also contained Wendell’s typed letter. In the past Seth, or Jane, has used lettering, typing, writing and printing interchangeably. Thus it is possible that tonight “printing” could refer to both the printing and typing on Wendell’s envelope, and to the letter it had contained.

(Jane spells out: M-i-s-s-i-n-c or e-n-c. At break Jane said this data was actually two impressions, Miss and Inc or Enc. But we still couldn’t make connections. According to the object, for instance, the Crowley-Taylor Lumber Company is not incorporated.

(“It seems a definite connection with your studio.” Beside the connotations mentioned just above, the envelope used as object was kept in the studio, at the back of our apartment, for five months, or from its receipt in late May until now, October 3,1966.

(“A bottom or middle drawer, next to something financial.” The object was not kept in a drawer of my desk in the studio, but lay beneath a pile of papers on a shelf of the desk, perhaps a foot above the desk drawer which contains our financial records.

(“And a small round object.” On top of the stack of papers that had accumulated on the desk shelf, and which contained Wendell Crowley’s envelope and letter, I had placed a plastic tape dispenser as a makeshift paperweight. This dispenser is composed of round and curving lines, has a circular hole through it perhaps an inch and a half in diameter, a larger round design in red printed about this hole, and of course contains a round roll of Scotch tape perhaps two inches in diameter.

(Had Seth stated something about a round design or print, rather than object, we could have considered the circular postmark on the object itself.

(First Question: What’s that connection with a February event? “I am not sure, though the number 17 seems connected to it, or 14, between the 14th and the 17th of February.” As explained, the object for tonight contained a letter written by Wendell Crowley in answer to my letter of last February. My letter could well have been written between February 14 and 17.