“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

[...] In your painting, remind yourself of reincarnational selves, for there are more portraits ready, and in your nap time, beside rest, both of you give such suggestions:

[...] I had the vague idea that I’d use the drawings as references for portraits that I would paint of her. [...]

[...] The head in a portrait cannot close its eyes if they are open, but you move within the framework of the temporal space that you have created for yourself.

(11:44.) The features in a portrait are painted on canvas or board, but your soul is not painted on your body. [...]

Your portrait of Ruburt, for example, appealed to many people who did not appreciate your abstracts. Those who appreciated your abstracts did not appreciate the portrait. [...]

This in itself has led you away from stereotyped portraits, and you could have fallen into that trap with your background in comics. There you see you avoided facing the ordinary human portrait through figures that were actually not as such individual, but types or even caricature. [...]

[...] I agreed while thinking this remark over, though I at once thought of a recent instance where this could have happened in a portrait.)

(The painter, 14th-century Belgian artist Van Elver, a survival personality whose portrait I have painted. [...]

[...] The sale of your faces should show you that these do have meaning for other people also, though they are not conventional portraits.

[...] Portraits [were] possessed only by the priests and nobility. [...]

[...] Man’s sense of inquiry led him, then, to begin to paint more natural portraits and images. [...]

(Her eyes still closed, Jane pointed to a portrait I had just hung. [...]

[...] This painting shows a much younger blond man, bearing no resemblance to the other portrait. [...]

(“I had the feeling that Seth was in this chute or tunnel, in miniature, and that he looked like he does in your portrait of him, only in full length.”¹

[...] Both of these images are like your portrait. [...]

1. See the picture section in Prentice-Hall’s editions of The Seth Material for a cropped, black-and-white reproduction of my oil portrait of Seth, “in the form in which he chose to appear to Rob,” as Jane wrote in Chapter 8 of that book. [...]

(The portrait referred to by Seth happened to hang on a wall facing Jane this evening. [...] The idea “came” to me one day and I painted the portrait without a model. [...]

(For the past few days I’ve done little “creative” work, beyond working on my watercolor portrait of Mrs. Johnson, the subject of my dream of last November, for an hour or two in the mornings; then in the afternoons I’ve typed these sessions and written the required notes for the record. [...]

[...] The smiling portrait that Jane saw was your work in a way. [...] The smiling portrait was to reassure her — Jane now rather than Ruburt. [...]

[...] An excellent portrayal — or portrait — of the infinite inner self watching and guiding the physical self’s existence.

[...] Then when Debbie Janney arrived Saturday evening, she told me that she had just missed meeting me at Steiner’s photo studio earlier that week; going there to have a portrait taken, she’d seen by accident the enlargements of my parents that Mr. Steiner was making for me. [...]

[...] I painted portraits of her as I met her in my dreams. [...]

(Today I showed Jane the finished version of my “ghost image” portrait of her as a male in another probability. [...]

[...] The ghostly qualities in that event fit in with what I was trying to do in the painting: By leaving the thick gray and white underpainting of my “portrait” of “Jane” without color, I realized, I could express not only a probable interpretation of her, but the colorless qualities of the Saratoga experience itself. [...]

(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. [...]

[...] One had to do with the meaning, or information available, concerning the portrait I had recently finished. [...]

I showed our guests the portrait of Seth that I had painted from my vision in 1968, as well as my paintings of Jane both before and after her death. [...] I also showed our visitors several of my portraits from my own past lives, both male and female, that Seth had mentioned long ago, or that I’d tuned into through dreams. [...] Beyond an occasional foray, however, I no longer have an abiding interest in simple literal portraits or still-life or landscape images per se. [...]

[...] Surely these would be as original as any conventional self-portrait. [...] Recently I finished a past-life portrait from my vision of a friend Jane and I had known years ago. [...]

[...] What, I could ask, did Seth really think of the portrait I’d painted of him way back in June 1968? [...]