“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

[...] We’d lost our car, but we had a place to live and had all of our paintings, manuscripts and records, including the fifty-three volumes of the Seth material, intact. [...]

[...] (Pause.) It paints the colors in the large “landscape” of your experience. [...]

This can be compared and correctly to errors in a painting. [...]

Now a rather odd connection with Grumbacher, or painting supplies, for the Grangers. [...]

[...] I felt fine towards Joel the first night because the minute you started talking, for weeks I had been coming to class, when I would see the war paint on him I would get a terrible pain in my head. [...]

(“Do you mean the casein painting? [...]

[...] I have drawn it several times, the most elaborate drawing being one I intended to incorporate in a tempera painting last winter. [...]

[...] There is a connection here with the transference of energy from any one plane to another, and from the inner senses for example to a painting, that should be very helpful.

(“I’m trying to get some paintings done so I can sell them.”)

[...] It is quite safe, therefore, to criticize them in that regard, to see how a story or a painting is constructed—or more importantly, to critically analyze the structure of ideas, themes, or beliefs, that appear behind, say, the poem or the work of fiction.

Now a rather odd connection with Grumbacher, or painting supplies, for the Gallaghers.

And amid all of this frenetic activity our painting and writing—those activities we’d always regarded as the creative hearts of our lives, the very reasons we’d chosen to live on earth this time around—had receded into a far distance, so that they’d become like dimly remembered dreams, or perhaps actions practiced in probable lives by “more fortunate” versions of ourselves.

It would also release new ideas in your paintings and give you a sense of freedom in dealing with various techniques and media. [...]

[...] When you gave up your job you did not have to explain why you did not have to find another as “any normal red-blooded male should do,” but stayed at home devoted to a time of painting and philosophy. [...]

[...] [Earlier Monday night, before the session, I’d asked Jane how one could “be a child again,” while retaining the valuable elements from the subsequent events in life, but keeping that original clarity and simplicity of vision.] I’d been thinking primarily of painting. [...]

(It would make a great painting.

Now: If you examine your feelings about parenthood in general, you will see that they bear an astonishing similarity to your feelings about your painting and our work. [...]

[...] You have projected books, paintings and activities into the future—the patterns wait there to be filled. [...]

[...] She’s become especially conscious of impulses while working on her new book, Heroics, for, strangely, she’s found herself confronting a series of seemingly contradictory impulses to do other things, such as paint, or reread her old poetry.

[...] Seth did discuss my dream of last night, explaining in some detail how I’d busily constructed a second dream self so that I could carry on a dialogue expressing creative impatience with myself: I was eager to embark upon new ventures in painting and writing, even while I was recording Mass Events for Jane and Seth, and preparing for publication.)

[...] Seth returned almost at once, after I said that I wasn’t interested in solving our problems by simply changing jobs for more money – the problem was that I wanted time to paint, etc., and time for Jane to write.)

[...] You would have been painting in the trailer. [...]

[...] I obtained a job painting signs in Marathon for a few days. [...]

Your father somewhat resented your seemingly magical projections of reality into paintings, since he worked futilely in the realm of material inventions and got nowhere. [...]

[...] You spoke (today) of some artists painting formula paintings. [...]

[...] Again, the official mind says that it was a coincidence that this couple were, in their way, artistically inclined, enjoyed painting and writing, free-lanced, and still lived in an apartment after some years of marriage — and that the man was relatively quiet in contrast to the woman (with amusement). Yet again probabilities merge, for the woman could well have been a writer, the man an artist; and seeing Ruburt and Joseph, they related with other probabilities inherent in their own natures.

[...] There are more “coincidences” involved than those Seth described tonight, none of them consciously known to Jane and me before the Sayre adventure: Mr. Markle is in a nursing home but a few miles from where we live in Elmira, and my mother spent her last days in a similar home less than 15 miles away; one of Mr. Markle’s children lives in Elmira, and is connected with a store Jane and I have visited; Mr. Johnson, of the real estate couple that conducted us about in Sayre, did sign painting and truck lettering as a younger man, as I did; he and I had several mutual acquaintances in Sayre, among them an older artist of some reputation — and now deceased — that we had known in our high school days; and so forth.