Results 61 to 80 of 404 for stemmed:father
[...] Jane said she felt carried away, as she had been in the Father Trainor episode. [...] During this experiment, while reading some poetry aloud that the now-dead Father Trainor had often read to her when she was in high school, Jane’s voice had taken on an enormous male volume and strength. [...] Jane said it was Father Trainor’s voice, at times, or a close approximation. I can only say it was not the Seth voice; I had never known Father Trainor.
Your father’s creativity, as mentioned (in other sessions), before, had its side of secrecy, privacy and aloneness. Again as mentioned, you identified creativity with your father’s private nature. [...]
[...] Your father’s inventiveness would also be used in the same manner, as source material, by whichever self you chose to become. [...]
[...] For one reason, you identified your painting creative self with your father, and you felt that he had had to protect his creative self in the household from your mother. [...]
[...] Father Trainor, in the photograph we have of him, was a very heavyset man. [...] Father Trainor was Irish.
[...] After the conversation had turned to matters psychic, Jane played the tape recording of the Father Trainor episode of last February 11. [...]
[...] On the tape she manifested many voice changes, while reading G. K. Chesterton’s narrative poem Lepanto, that were quite reminiscent of the way the deceased Father Trainor had read it. [...]
[...] Almost at once it became apparent that the psychic phenomenon taking place, whether or not it involved a medium’s contact with Father Trainor, was much superior to the version already on tape.
When my father, Robert Sr., photographed Jane and me on our wedding day, December 27, 1954, and then in 1957, did any of us know that his work would be published almost half a century later?
Jane’s father, Del, photographed her in 1951, when she was 22. [...]
Jane and I had been married for three months when my father photographed her in March 1955.
[...] He also, that is Ruburt also, felt the violence that is a part of his father’s personality. [...] The father had completely disappeared. To the child the father simply vanished from the face of the earth, an equally fearful fate.
[...] Your father’s aggressiveness, normal male aggressiveness, was blocked up, and directed against your mother. [...]
You are also angry at Ruburt’s docility because it reminds you of your father’s lack of aggression in his business dealings. [...]
[...] There are unfortunate connections with your father however, that might at first mitigate against your enjoyment, though old experience with the land would soon come back to you.
New paragraph: When racial conditions require it, it is quite possible for an individual to both father and mother a child.* In such cases, what you would call complete spontaneous sexual reverses or transformations would occur. [...] Even in your world, currently speaking, some individuals known as women could father their own children.
Some individuals known as men could give birth to a child fathered by the same person — could (underlined). [...]
[...] The father connection, legitimate but not pertinent. He had vainly daydreamed that his father might send unexpected money, with which he could complete that set of dishes to which the pepper shaker belongs.
[...] And connects this with his father.
(There is also a father connection here, as Seth explains with the salt and pepper shakers and the new set of dishes to which they belong.
(On Friday at 1 PM on February 5, my father died. [...]
This began at the gallery when your father and mother first stated that money would be needed, and very shortly after your return from Florida. [...]
[...] He did fear that you would become bitter if you did not succeed (as a painter), and he sometimes felt that you retreated to the studio away from him, as purposely your father retreated from your mother into the cellar or garage. [...]
We are bringing some beliefs out in to the open, yours as well as Ruburt’s. You identified in many respects with your father, though often you felt forced to take your mother’s part. [...]
You would not be shunted aside as your mother shunted your father. [...]
In his own way your father was saying “Since you do not trust my creativity I will deny you its benefits, even if I deny myself its benefits”—this to your mother; and you picked up a taboo: you could make money on art as long as you felt it was not really (underlined) creative—that is, commercial. [...]
[...] During the evening we played some tapes also, and among these was one of the recordings Jane made of G. K. Chesterton’s poem Lepanto; Jane was in a trance state while reading this, apparently in a close approximation of the voice of her now dead friend, Father Trainor. Lepanto was Father Trainor’s favorite poem. [...]
[...] You have a deep distrust of moving, because of your parents’ stationary background, and because of your father’s distrust and fear of the outside world.
You do to some extent identify with your mother, in terms of a husband rather than a son, now that the king, father, has been removed. [...]
You have also picked up your father’s bitterness. [...]
(Elmar, Jane and I take to refer to Jane’s father, Delmer. [...] In this constant questioning about descendants, we wanted to get enough information for Jane to be able to ask her father some questions about his family tree; Jane knows nothing about it, and her father has not discussed it with her. [...]
[...] I was perhaps halfway through achieving the desired state when I became aware of my father in my left-center field of vision. [...] Father shook the newspaper rather emphatically, then spoke a phrase of several words that I have now forgotten. [...]
[...] The new human being is obviously not either the father or the mother, and yet is obviously a construction formed by each from physical matter belonging to each.
[...] These quotes are close to being exact, whereas for some reason I cannot remember at all what Father said.
[...] Jane’s father, who addressed the envelope, can be “A connection with another individual, a male.” Jane’s father is of course “someone who visited here,” but we do not know what “A photograph” means, particularly, in the test data, since Seth did not elaborate.
[...] Without going into personal details, we can say that Seth is correct when he refers to “A connection with an event that was not particularly pleasant”; this involved us and Jane’s father in Florida.