“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

Think of the energy as radiating outward from the object, giving life to all other things, whether or not many specific objects are to be in any given painting. This will result in paintings in which your chosen point of attention radiates through the form, illuminating all other objects in the painting, and psychically radiating outward from the painting.

The meaning behind them was known to all. Each of the great masters’ paintings somehow suggest the existence of far greater realities, of which the paintings were a part. They saw the objects within their paintings as portions of a greater whole that was suggested by the painting.

(This is sound painting technique. Jane paints in her own manner, quite different than mine, but the above data is not her way of thinking in painting terms as far as I know. I have never heard her mention this, at least.)

It is easier then to sense and feel the alive energy within and beneath the physical forms that you see. It is easier to feel yourself as the artist, also a part of the landscape that you paint; to sense the merging of your own energy into the scene before you, and to realize that you are a part of it also. For you paint reality from within.

(Smile.) You would have been consciously aware of the painting whether or not you were consciously aware of the vision. It is you who think of the painting in terms of time, and who perceive it in this manner. (Sitting up as she spoke, Jane began to take off her sweater and shoes.) The painting exists and in one reality you have already completed it. [...]

(Rewritten November/2000: The vision grew out of Seth’s saying in the deleted 382nd session, on November 27/67, that I’d do well-known painting of Bill Gallagher. It will be based upon the conception of my painting of 1954 that I “sold to Sonja.” [...]

[...] The paintings that you will paint do exist, because you have in one sense the potential to create them. [...]

This is what makes a painting great, the validity of the inner ground of being within them, interpreted in highly individual ways. The individuality itself, if it is intuitively valid, will lead to a universal inner recognition on the part of all who perceive such a painting.

By the time the painting is done you should almost be able to hear his words, even though they are in a language you do not know. But what power moves him, and is it the same power that moves you, and that moves those who will look at the painting? [...] Is he only aware of those who will later look at the painting? [...]

(Seth here refers to a large painting I have planned and made a pen-and-ink drawing for in small scale. [...] In this particular painting the background will play an important role, since it is designed to indicate a play of light and shadow. [...]

The painting itself, and any painting, rises out of the empty board through the force of your own emotions, and the board becomes the focal point that collects, draws together and directs the energy from your inner self, into form.

[...] I had my reasons (smile) for introducing these questions pertaining to the painting this evening—to make available to you certain information that you had, the kinds of questions to ask yourself in other paintings in the future.

Forget the idea of man’s work and what your paintings should (underlined) provide, and the idea of fame or success. Let yourself go with the joy of painting what you want to; but forgetting also, again, the idea that your paintings are working out problems, technical or not.

You wanted to express ideas in paintings that do not come in youth, and to merge a particular kind of understanding with a particular kind of form. [...] Josef was not able to paint anything worthwhile past the age of 40, and he turned to a land-owner’s province.

Do not think so in terms of stages of paintings and their execution. See the complete painting as you want it, and have the faith that it will look that way. [...]

[...] It forces upon you a sense of responsibility to use what you have, while instead it should mean simply being what you are, and being what you are (underlined) will automatically produce excellent paintings.

In your terms and in your probability, your parents’ lives are over, completed, and when in your reality you paint a picture it is finished, completed; and yet even in that context it outlives your completion of it, and endures. Surely lives are as important as paintings, and as such multidimensional creations far outlast the paintings that are representations of the life you know.

There are masters in living as there are the Old Masters of painting. Some of the Old Masters were adept at painting scenes of violence, warfare, sagas, with dark and dreary atmospheres, yet each so filled at the same time with life and vitality that the canvases themselves seemed alive. Even paintings of great destruction spoke of the great creative energy behind the talent that vitalized the very medium, and by its very creativity denied the very strength of the destruction so cleverly depicted.

The greatest Old Masters felt the inner self’s great integrity, and its connection with All That Is, and each in his own way through painting tried to represent that energy and show it to others. [...] When you look at the great world picture before you in space and time, look at it as you would a multidimensional worldscape, painted by some artist who was all of the great masters in one; and behind the scenes of destruction and conflict, feel the great energy that in itself denies the destruction that is in that case so cleverly depicted.

[...] Then you have the painting to examine. [...]

2. Seth mentioned a “correspondence” among my dreams, painting, and writing because just lately I’ve been doing small oil paintings of a few of my more vivid dream images. I’ve discovered that this is great fun — and much more challenging than I’d anticipated, as I try to reduce the shifting, brilliant dream elements to the motionless painted surfaces we’re so used to in waking reality. Each little painting becomes a unique adventure both technically and emotionally, and I hardly succeed in solving every attempt I make. Now, futilely, I wonder why I didn’t try painting images from my dreams at a much earlier age; and why one so seldom hears about other artists doing the same thing. [...]

(9:15.) Your [painted] faces represent such a recognition. [...] (Long pause.) For you, painting had to be wedded to a deeper kind of understanding. Painting was even to be a teacher, leading you through and beyond images, and back to them again.

(9:29.) Give us a moment… By all means encourage the dream activity, and there will be a correspondence between your dreams, your painting and your writing.² Each one encourages the others. Your writing gains vitality from your painting, your painting from your writing — and the dreaming self at one time or another is in contact with all other Aspects — capital “A” — of your reality.

Your painting was meant to bring out from the recesses of your being the accumulation of your knowledge in the form of images — not of people you might meet now on the street, but portraits of the residents of the mind. [...] To some extent, when you paint such portraits you are forming psychic bridges between yourself and those other selves: Your own identity as yourself grows.

[...] As stated, this is one of the group of paintings written about in the letter used as object. This particular painting has strong cubist leanings. [...] It is painted in browns, ochres, and golden tones. [...] And Jane said the design of the painting, with its interlocking angular shapes and lines, reminds her of a Jungle Gym at a playground.

(The photo idea however is quite legitimate, since a photo can be related to a painting in many ways. The areas on all of the abstracts are of course filled in, and also the abstract foundation of the paintings relates them to the idea of buildings. In fact a friend interpreted one of them as being a painting of buildings recently. Jane said Seth might not be able to very easily distinguish between the emotional charges connected to a photo and a painting; they might appear much alike to his perceptions. [...]

[...] Without seeing it to make absolutely sure, Jane and I are reasonably sure that the abstract Dr. Lodico has purchased from me was painted in October, 1964. I am sure I did the painting at least two years ago. I have the habit of dating my paintings, so will be able to check this data when I visit the doctor’s office. [...]

[...] Thus the visual idea of a painting and a photo are closely related, to Seth. [...] “Dark colors and light colors and shadows” can refer to either a photo or a painting; the description is quite apt for the painting roughly indicated on page 39.

[...] Imagine someone asking you if you have sold any paintings lately. See and hear yourself telling them (long pause) that you are selling more paintings than you ever believed possible. See an envelope marked with painting money and see it stuffed full of painting money that you have received from your paintings. [...]

[...] All of this goes on before any event appears in physical terms, in the same way that much creative activity goes on hidden in your mind, behind each movement of your hand as you apply paint with a brush to a painting. [...] You see instead their effects in the color, the brush strokes and the painting.

Be careful of the suggestion “I will sell all the paintings that I want to sell,” for you are setting up conditions and limitations. Either say “I will sell all my paintings,” or “I will sell these paintings,” referring to specificness. [...]

Now you give yourself conscious direction by taking it for granted that you paint well, by trying to see the completed painting in your mind. [...]

A trick you may use, though you do not need it, when you want an idea for a new painting, is as follows. Pick a day in your future and simply request that you see that painting you will be working on at that time. [...] The picture of the painting should be available to you however. [...] If you are looking for a refreshing change, a lighthearted experiment, then imagine what painting you would paint if you were a particular other person, gifted with your own abilities.

The painting would be your own in any case, sifted through your own individuality. There were paintings planned by various great masters that were never painted, and these ideas exist. [...]

[...] Then imagine the blank picture as if you were going to paint it in your mind. Either see Ruburt painted in with the expression on his face as he reads the significant letter, and instead of the title the date of the letter.

Another method: pretend you are painting Ruburt with a picture of the book in his hand, then the details as to the publisher and so forth would be painted in for you. [...]

[...] Other portions should explain your own ideas concerning creativity as you feel it in yourself — the differences and similarities between your experience when you paint a picture from “usual” inspiration and when first of all you perceive the psychic impression that leads to a painting. Some illustrations from an initial sketch to a completed painting should be included.

[...] For this will short-circuit some of your hang-ups as far as painting is concerned and will lead to new spontaneous painting power (humorously). You will also consider it a work of merit, and you will be doing your own thing with your experience. I know that the impetus alone will quite slyly and automatically produce some excellent paintings. [...]

[...] The book should be fun to write besides, and combine your writing and painting abilities. [...] You will be able to get a contract on it, with advance, and writing it will also serve as a spurt for your painting. [...]

[...] You should go into your own ideas about the people you paint, and why, being fascinated with portraits, you often do not use models.

You believed the painting self had to be protected. 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. [...] You could not paint freely in it, for you were so on guard against distractions that anything could distract you.

He felt that in the world’ s eyes this put you down, since your paintings were not selling. [...] His job then was to encourage you to paint and sell your paintings, for he felt nothing else would satisfy you, and/or satisfy your brothers or your family.

[...] My writing and painting selves. [...] My selling paintings. [...]

The painting also, innately now, involves going outdoors, though you seldom paint from nature out in the landscape. [...]

To paint paintings for joy was an act of defiance against your mother, and so you have punished yourself in several ways; by being overly concerned with their quality, insisting upon perfection, and by not making strong efforts to sell them or to work for recognition in that field.

[...] Each painting has a spontaneous reality that you have often refused to acknowledge. (Pause.) Carried to extremes this could smother the spontaneous spark that is the heart of each painting.

[...] The painting was an act of defiance against your mother, an act of independence. [...] Therefore if you made money through your paintings, then subconsciously you thought that your mother would still be getting her way. [...]

Not allowing yourself to make money through paintings also allowed you to punish yourself for what you considered this act of defiance. [...] This also affected your work itself to some degree, in that you sometimes inserted qualities in the paintings to hold people off, a remoteness.

In order to sell your paintings in any important way, or to achieve a reputation, you must want to achieve a reputation, and want to sell the paintings. [...]

What you do not seem to understand is that the search, to show and sell your paintings, will in itself provide fuel for future work. The search in itself will make you feel that you are doing your best to place your paintings so that they will be permanently displayed and cared for. [...]

[...] This material stemmed from a discussion Jane and I had had the other day, re selling paintings and how best to go about it. [...]

[...] You put in time and effort in the past to sell your commercial work, but have refused to do the same to sell your paintings. [...]

(My pendulum related the symptoms to my decision to paint an oil from a small pen-and-ink sketch I had made in 1969. I pulled the little sketch, which was a free interpretation of what I considered to be a man facing himself, embodying certain distortions of face and form from my files recently and decided to paint it. [...]

[...] (True.) This sort of a painting however, that uses figures or objects, but not in representational form, bothers you, while you are strongly attracted in sketches of the same nature. [...] It is only when you transpose the same ideas onto painting and a more permanent form that you become uneasy.

(In the meantime, I told myself I would know how to proceed with painting; the result is that I returned to a small portrait I began several months ago, and left unfinished while I tackled some other problems. With this decision I feel I am back on a kind of track that will lead to more developments; some of these developments may possibly include the kind of painting that triggered the episode; if so, if compatible, all to the good. [...]

[...] On Tuesday afternoon when I began the blowup of the drawing to transfer in turn to the panel for painting, the symptoms began—coughing, sneezing, etc., much like aggravated hay fever symptoms. [...]

[...] Think of your painting as a spontaneous play of the godlike self, who paints or plays for the pure joy of doing so, without effort, without questions, and without plans. [...] When you feel like sketching or painting, when an idea springs into your head, try it immediately. [...]

You do not need to justify your existence by painting. [...] The first is to paint a portrait of a person whom you know, trying to portray the essence of that person, their deepest agonies and highest joys, their highest capabilities and fears of failure. [...]

[...] (Humorously and emphatic.) Both demand a concentration and focus into the basic reality from which painting comes, rather than upon the painting itself. [...]

[...] When such thoughts come to mind, instead tell yourself that that trend of thought will not help your painting, but hinder it, and that it is constricting. Then immediately imagine a time when you painted very well and spontaneously, and tell yourself that you are now free to use and develop these abilities. [...]

You also have ideas of guilt about your painting that are culturally induced. [...] The painting does not bring in money, so to punish yourself you do not enjoy it sufficiently—but concentrate upon the distractions instead. You do your financial part with the books, but you still tie in your social identity with your painting, and to some extent you still feel that that social identity is dependent upon the money your “art” should produce, so you punish yourself by not enjoying your painting time. This also impedes your spontaneity in painting, of course.

[...] That kind of painting can be excellent, but it also involves an intense immersion in the emotions, to the exclusion of any important conceptualizing. The greatest kind of painting includes both the intuitions and the intellect, but in your terms this also requires the maturing of the high intellect. [...]

[...] Your desire to paint, per se, did not emerge full blown when you were a young man, and one probable self is happily engaged in commercial artwork. [...]

[...] You have often tried to control your painting, rather than to let it go through you onto the canvas. [...]

[...] Now for once you should rationally feel free in your painting time to paint, released from all requirements of buying or selling. Yet perversely now, of all times, you feel as if your painting must bring money. [...]

[...] At the same time, through it all I could eat what I wanted, drink, etc., and the painting was going very well. I have, in regard to the latter, solved several challenges with painting—from the time we moved to Pinnacle Road—and now feel that I have a clear road there as to how I want to do things into the indefinite future, etc. [...]

(Then today, Saturday, my pendulum told me that I felt guilty about using painting time when I should be working on Seth’s “Unknown” Reality, since the painting wasn’t bringing in money, etc. [...]

[...] Your painting time, I tell you—listen to me—had basically nothing to do with clock time. [...] This has to do with Ruburt’s symptoms, for he felt that he must be at his desk so many hours, whatever the number, and you became so obsessed with the amount of physical hours that you had to devote to painting that you began to divide up your psyche in terms of time.

[...] I’ve also resumed painting on a daily basis. [...] At the moment I paint in the mornings, with an absolute trust growing out of the last session plus what I know and feel about Framework 2, and that’s it. [...] Right now I feel as far away from Mass Events as I did from painting when I wasn’t doing that.

As long as you feel, for example, that there is a conflict between your writing and your painting, then (underlined) you must somehow or other give each an equal-enough play, or you become upset. After your bout (of illness) I therefore suggested you go back to painting—which is important to you, and it is quite true that when you do not paint for a while you feel uneasy, and psychically out of balance. [...]

If you would try to see your own creative unity, then both your painting and your writing would give greater satisfaction, and become richer—your prose inspired by your imagery, and your painting by your ideas, so that both are sparked, producing not only products but a creative vision that sees reality through an extension that would be the natural art of consciousness, meant to blossom from those abilities. [...]

[...] Left alone, ideally, you might have taken a week of joyful painting, during which time your mind refreshed itself, and new ideas about your notes accumulated. Telling you—or rather suggesting—that you paint simply put you on that course. [...]

[...] Now, imagine (underlined) how you will feel when your paintings sell, the joy that they will bring others, the joy that you will feel knowing they are wanted. Imagine what you will do as you sell so many paintings that you need more time to produce them, and how you will then leave your job in order to paint, and the sort of place you will live, and the feeling of contentment and creative challenge that will fill you.

[...] Ruburt gave you some good images when he said that thoughts were like the colors and the lines you use to make a painting. Except the painting, which is physical reality, has more dimensions, and you must experience it quite directly. [...]

Now, think of it as already accomplished, in the same way that you see the image of a painting before you paint it. [...]

In your own case, with paintings. [...]

[...] The connection with paintings brings about your desire that the photographs be “as perfect as possible.” You do not want anyone else to have a hand in your own work—that is in your paintings. To reproduce paintings, or in this case photographs, seems to be tampering with them in that regard. That is, if an editor changed your copy you would be annoyed, but reproduction, you fear, can change the copy of a photograph or a painting if it is not done properly. [...]

[...] Yet photographs are also connected in your mind with paintings to some degree. [...]

(“Well, with the pendulum I’d arrived at the idea that my stomach bothered me because of a conflict between painting and writing—the time I have for each. [...]

[...] I slept well, and worked well at painting this morning. [...]