“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

Because your work does involve you with both painting and writing inside, then any other variety you add to it can help make up for the varieties possible to others who have a daily change of environment as a matter of course. [...]

[...] The intensity that first generated, say, a painting, continues to operate and there is new creation sparked in the interchange between such a painting and each observer of it.

The collection will include our family trees; my father’s journals and photographs; Jane’s and my own grade-school, high-school, college, and family data; our youthful creative efforts in writing and painting; the comic books and other commercial artwork I produced; our early published and unpublished short stories; my original notes for the sessions; session transcripts, whether published or unpublished, “regular,” private, or from ESP class; tapes, including those made in class of Jane speaking for Seth and/or singing in Sumari; our notes, dream records, journals, and manuscripts; our sketches and paintings; Jane’s extensive poetry; our business correspondence; books, contracts, and files; newsletters about the Seth material, published in the United States and abroad (independently of Jane and me); the greater number of letters from readers—in short, a mass of material showing how our separate beginnings flowed together and resulted in the production of a joint lifework.

[...] For you will find that you are uniting abilities, so that writing and painting no longer seem “opposing” abilities, with a distance between them. [...]

[...] One advantage would be that it would unite the art and writing aspects—particularly paintings of some of my dreams.)

(“Would it help to paint a picture of my recollection of Joseph and the wall?”)

(“What connection, if any, does the picture of the man I painted in Florida, around 1954, have with Jane or myself?”)

[...] This can be compared to what you said to Ruburt concerning your paintings today—only instead life is involved. It is the painting that is suddenly simple.

Your own annoying physical symptoms have been caused largely because of the matters just mentioned—either worry over “Unknown” Reality, or painting, or Ruburt. [...]

You will do a painting of the Jesuit (Bill Gallagher) that will become well known. It will be the outgrowth of a conception in the painting sold to Sonya (Carlson, of Johnsonburg, Pennsylvania) of the idea, I believe.

(“What do you think of my painting now?”)

[...] The effect is like an inkblot, except that the quality and texture of the paint is much superior as far as charm goes; this particular hand-ground pigment, which I make myself by heating a certain Italian earth color, has a texture like fine cement or roughened stone. [...]

[...] You will be forming new gestalts of experience, using past, present and future as a painter chooses his colors, combining them into various paintings.

[...] The original object contains a multitude of fine patterns made by the rough paint when I pressed the folder paper together. [...]

[...] The paint blot on the object reminded Jane of a man, which could give rise to the man data here. [...]

[...] As of now we have so far mailed the letter to Eleanor re Rich Bed; phoned the ad about a house in to the Elmira paper; obtained the paint for Jane’s workroom; put up new curtains in her room; begun inquiries about the duplication of the letter for readers who write to Jane; packaged the first six chapters of Seth’s book to mail to Tam at Prentice-Hall tomorrow; begun to check the galleys for Oversoul Seven—all of these being items on the list we made out a couple of days ago. [...]

[...] Your own unswerving desire to paint is your impetus, as writing was Ruburt’s and is, so that your knowledge would be interpreted in those terms—as, if you continue, it will be.

On the other hand you must at the minimum (underlined) work 4 and ½ hours a day at your own painting. [...]

[...] You also have to be free enough, and will be, to stand on your own position, and you must be free enough to cast aside the shackles that invisibly surround the field of painting, and even your own interpretation of it.

[...] I still read the deleted material for myself on most days, paint a little, do chores, work on the files, the yard, help Jane, record dreams—but I try to do all of these things at an easy pace while trusting that I’ll continue to reconcile opposing beliefs, and see more physical and creative improvements. [...]

[...] You have been painting more lately. [...] Your own desire to paint joined with and reinforced your eyes’ natural desire to see.

[...] I’d really like to do a painting of this dream.”

[...] If you paint a picture within three-dimensional existence, then the painting must be on a flat surface, merely hinting at the complete three-dimensional experience that you cannot insert into it. [...]

[...] In the meantime I’d gone back to painting, which I’d given up for the last two years of Jane’s life. I painted portraits of her as I met her in my dreams. [...]

[...] After she came out of trance Jane told me that she had picked up from Seth that he liked the way my painting of “the dog” — Gus, from my dream of August 16 — [...] In the meantime I’m going back to work on my impressionistic tree painting and the one of the dream man and boy in blue.)

The dream represented a correlation of past, present and future, a knowledge that Ruburt was indeed an artist in a distant life, that he has strong abilities in that direction now; and it represents your inner realization of the type of painting he can ultimately produce in this life if he utilizes the ability. [...] Therefore the quality of the painting in the dream amazed you.

(The pastel drawing of Jane’s that I saw in my dream was so vivid that I still retain it clearly, and plan to do an oil painting of it soon. [...] Although she understands perspective which I have tried to teach her, she has no feeling for it, and prefers to work without it; she calls her work primitive, and it has a childlike quality when she is left alone to paint her own way.

[...] The aura about is as important to your painting as the ready-made workroom in the Foster house. The very air is inspiring, so that you will paint more there even if your work area is not immediately as good.

[...] There are good paintings to be found from the house, in terms of landscapes, and natural walks. [...]

I am painted on the wall. [...]

[...] I want you to seriously consider each one of the paintings and tell me which one is Bega.

[...] I do not want to see another painting. [...]

He should indeed reread those sessions that he read today, and you paint because you love to paint, and forget what an artist is supposed to be or not to be. [...]

(Today I picked up from Mr. Steiner the life-size enlargements of my parents; they’re remarkably good, and I plan to paint portraits of the folks from them. [...]

[...] Your writing and painting provide “services” of a different order. [...]

In a fashion this would indeed represent a very desirable arrangement over a period of years, one that Ruburt could take advantage of, one that could serve you by also presenting you with a different framework through which to view your painting and visual world, one in which the idea of water as motion was always present. [...]

[...] and I did fear that the extra work couldn’t but help cut into painting time, or typing time, or whatever. [...]