“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

(The room, my studio, in which I wrote the suggestions for Jane’s new book title, has yellow painted walls. [...]

I also described to our guests the great Seckel pear tree that had grown so beautifully in the back yard, with some of its branches—and fruit— within my reach from the windows of the studio. [...] At the Sayre house I have the large oil painting I did of the sunlight streaming through the windows of the studio on a certain day early in August: the only day in the year that the ever-moving sun casts that particular intriguing pattern of light and shadow across the bare wooden floor.

But first: One day in late November 1963, Jane sat at her writing table in the living room while I left to paint in my studio at the back of the apartment. [...]

[...] Usually on class night, Tuesday, I was secluded in my studio at the back of our second-floor apartment, typing from my notes the session Jane had held for the two of us the night before; then I’d be caught up for the Wednesday-night session to come.

[...] She said that if she happened to be in Schuylerville during the day she’d stop in at Ed’s studio in town and say hello. [...]

[...] Perfect, he would have thought, at least one of them, for a summer studio. [...]

(For the envelope test I used a pair of name cards made by our friend Bill Macdonnel for his art studio, the Cameron Gallery. [...]

[...] Then I “remembered” that there was another radio in Rob’s studio. [...] I leaped out of bed and rushed to the studio. [...]

[...] Rob had to shut him in the studio.

(Jane thinks the paper reference here could refer to the object being sandwiched between the two pieces of cardboard, or Bristol, inside the double envelope; for when she opened the envelopes she at first thought the canvas was glued to one of the pieces of Bristol—probably because she had seen me working out the gluing problem in the studio in recent weeks. [...]

(Long pause.) The paintings that you have envisioned, for example, exist there, and they are every bit as real as the paintings in your studio. [...]

[...] The painting to you had such strongly feminine connotations that subconsciously you felt your studio was like a womb, out of which the paintings were produced. [...]

[...] Your tendency toward feeling safe in noncontact situations means that you do not want models in your studio, yet you are highly intrigued by personality. [...]

[...] I have a room I’m converting into a studio, and one in which to work on this manuscript. [...]

(The oil head in question sits in my studio, still unfinished and has been seen by Jane often. [...]

[...] Rob it seems to me is utterly silent in his studio. [...]

[...] He went back to his studio and I closed my eyes trying to visualize my [psychic] library;⁹ nothing, I tried again and just as suddenly I saw a woman seated opposite me [at] the living room table.”

[...] Sometimes her singing carries from her writing room at the back of the house, through the kitchen, around the corner and down the hall into my studio. [...]

[...] Rob came out of his studio to listen to me. [...]

[...] It is of course no coincidence that you have a writing room and a studio—not simply one or the other, so that the two rooms show the two important interests of your life.

[...] And lately, Bill has been looking for a place to live that he could also use as a studio.

(Bill Macdonnel was present but I was working in my studio. [...]

(We were late getting started because of my own work in the studio. [...]

[...] At this time I had no idea of using it for the experiment; the idea occurred later, some time after Jane had left the studio. [...]

[...] She then experienced a “veil” of light within, and in the veil she saw my studio clock and the time, 6:50 PM, very distinctly. [...]