1 result for (book:tps6 AND heading:"delet session juli 26 1981" AND stemmed:time)
[... 2 paragraphs ...]
(All of that naturally led Jane and me into talking about our own experiences in NYC after our marriage. We went over a lot of ground, and it seemed to have very beneficial, even therapeutic effects for Jane. I kept recalling things about those times, and so did she as the morning passed.
(“Synchronicity” also seemed to be involved with the dream, for in today’s paper I found myself reading a column in the sports section, concerning knee injuries —and this in turn triggered my remembering that Ralph Ramstad had a “trick knee,” as he used to call it, the result I believe of a childhood accident. And following those two connections, I speculated with Jane about a third: my hurting the lower left ribs about a week ago during the visit of Tom D’Orio and friends. Frank Longwell told me I’d strained the ligaments helping to support the ribs, and that “they don’t like that.” Most uncomfortable, even at times in bed. The seemingly innocuous injury, which hasn’t even left a black-and-blue sign, is quite painful at times and most inconvenient in regards to various bodily functions involving any sudden movements, as in sneezing, etc.
[... 7 paragraphs ...]
The service station and entire setup was chosen because it represented excellent symbolism, and unconsciously referred you back to the time when your father made his batteries, and owned that business.
[... 1 paragraph ...]
In the first scene of this dream you see a probable self, who could reasonably be expected to be the kind of son your father might have, gifted with his hands mechanically, assertive enough to own his own business, however—after all, a part of the American dream, embarked upon employment that he enjoyed, and yet one that provided a service, hence physically seen between the ice (and roller-skating) rink, representing pleasure or fun, and the grocery store, representing service or nourishment. So you might have been that kind of person, with the belief system of your times, and with your background. A man if possible should own his own business, provide a service for the community—and, again, inventiveness or creativity were to be wedded to those pursuits. Your father’s inventiveness, again, dealt often with mechanics.
[... 6 paragraphs ...]
Some of this has to do with the complicated nature of creativity itself, and with the contradictions that seem to exist at certain levels. Your kind of creativity has always been together and jointly of a private nature—so much so that you do not even like to work in rooms too close to each other. You have often thought of living under more isolated surroundings. Ruburt has been fascinated at times by the idea of working nights, his ways of assuring such isolation. You began to accumulate some ideas of a different nature, wondering more about your responsibilities to the world as adults, wondering how “useful” art should be in the world.
[... 3 paragraphs ...]
(Long pause at 4:02.) To some extent at times you each dream dreams that can be used by the other one, and this is a case in point. Ruburt felt that a public career threatened his own, and to some extent your characteristic, natural and absolutely necessary ways of relating with the world.
[... 5 paragraphs ...]
I will certainly. Overall, I do agree, however, that our sessions ideally should not be tied to utility as a primary consideration, but should be freed of such considerations, at least generally speaking, so that their full potential can be expressed. A potential that belongs to all of art, whatever its nature, since it is daring enough, free enough to fly ahead of man’s needs at any given time, and to create a new atmosphere that transforms the nature of being itself.
[... 16 paragraphs ...]
(I added that I thought I was already doing, at least to some extent, what Seth advocated in the session—throwing away any sense of responsibility or financial reward in painting, at this time at least. I trusted that whatever might result from the painting would be beneficial in various ways, possibly including the financial if the need arose. I explained to Jane that I’d reached the point in the last year where I just couldn’t let anything interfere with the act of painting itself—and that I thought she needed an attitude like that in regard to her own work very badly. I could have said [in retrospect] that my attitude stemmed at least to a large degree from my watching her struggle with her own hang-ups. Not that I didn’t think I’d reach it on my own anyhow.
[... 2 paragraphs ...]