“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

(See the tracing on page 270 and the notes on page 271. As stated I picked the red ribbon used as object from the bed of our cat on about June 20, with little idea of its history. It developed that Jane had to think hard in order to tentatively link the object with a hand-knit sweater she had received from her mother as a birthday present. Jane’s birthday is May 8, but she received the package sometime after this; we located a letter from Jane’s mother dated May 10, in which she discusses mailing the sweater to Jane soon. [This session was held on July 18.]

(Jane located the inside box in which the sweater was packed, and remembered this box being inside another. The ribbon from which the object was taken was around the outside box, she felt; she also remembered a note with the sweater, but we could not locate it. We did find her mother’s letter of May 10th however.

(We think the above data also leads into the next: “And with music, or marks that suggest notes. A note, you see.” Again the use of free association… “This was to lead us to the word note.” As stated, Jane remembers a note being enclosed with the sweater sent to her by her mother. We could not find the note however. Jane believes the note was actually written on the back of a birthday card. We located the letter of May 10 from Jane’s mother, concerning the mailing of the sweater to Jane, but do not believe the above data refers to that letter exclusively, although there is evidently some connection.

[...] A point here involving Ruburt’s hands and his mother’s sweaters: he knew that knitting was a therapeutic measure suggested in the past to exercise his mother’s hands. When he became sensitized to the sweaters, then he had difficulty with his own hands, you see.

[...] One small note here: at those times when Ruburt wears sweaters to bed, you see, they serve as reminders of his mother’s bed jackets. [...]

[...] I would suggest for awhile that he refrain from wearing black sweaters in general, except that I fear his wardrobe is already depleted. [...]

(“Can she wear black sweaters?”

[...] (Pause.) He should not wear any of his mother’s sweaters however.

[...] On the way to work he found some sweaters he wanted. To some degree he felt guilty, wanting the sweaters when he had already lost money, and when they were obviously meant to replace the sweaters of his mother.

[...] This deprived him of an opportunity to change his mind and buy the sweaters then. [...]

[...] She wore a black sweater with the sleeves half pushed up and the cold white light spread up over the thickening wrist, up her forearm, to the sweater.

[...] The white crept up Jane’s arm to the sweater, and bled down her fingers, until all semblance of shadow was gone from the arm and palm. [...]

[...] I could examine the differences between my hands, for example, and see the other set of fingers, and the white glow that ran up to the edge of my rolled-up sweater. [...]

[...] He automatically rejected the sweaters as giving warmth on a subconscious basis.

Even then, however, the subconscious would not be forced too far, and a good deal of the time the sweaters sat in his drawer. [...]

[...] He wore the sweater night and day in a frenzied attempt to prove that it I had no harmful effects upon him. [...]

[...] With red sweater or shirt, speaking to the Jesuit (Bill) about 61 years old.

[...] (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. [...]

(Jane said the room was much too stuffy at the start of the session, and that she couldn’t have continued without taking her sweater and shoes off.)

[...] She wore a black sweater with the sleeves pushed halfway up her forearms. The cold white light spread up over the thickening wrist, up the forearm to the sweater. [...]

[...] At the joining of hand and wrist, the flesh rose up in an egglike lump; the light crept up Jane’s arm to her sweater, and bled down her fingers until all semblance of shadow was gone. [...]

[...] The sweater is one handmade by her mother, who is an invalid. [...] The sleeveless blouse was a little too chilly and she put the blue sweater on. Jane had planned to wear this sweater Friday evening, and had already applied blue eye shadow to match.

[...] Jane wore her favorite blue sweater Friday evening, October 7,1966, the evening which furnished the two objects used in tonight’s envelope experiment.

(Jane is not sure, but she believes Marilyn could have worn a blue Poorboy sweater Friday evening, one of very dark blue. [...]

[...] He surprises me with a great white sweater for an anniversary gift....)

[...] She was smiling, her legs were crossed, she wore a brown sweater and skirt, she had dark long hair.

(“The color purple,” Jane said this is speculation: She wears a certain purple sweater her mother made for her on days when the studio is chilly in the mornings. She wears no other sweater in the studio; it is, also, too large to wear publicly. But Jane has no idea whether she wore the sweater on the day she wrote the object.

(Long pause.) These attitudes may be reflected in rather simple compulsive actions: the woman who cleans the house endlessly, whether it needs it or not; the man who will follow certain precise, defined routes of activity — driving down certain streets only to work; washing his hands much more frequently than other people; the person who constantly buttons and unbuttons a sweater or vest. [...]

I do not need sweaters—I have no body to put one on (to Rachel knitting a sweater). [...]

[...] The flesh and hair and sweater looked alive even though they never moved. [...]

[...] A gray-haired man telling a story, with a red sweater or shirt, speaking to the Jesuit. [...]

[...] The package contained a sweater Sarah forgot. [...]

[...] Possibly a reference to the sweater left behind by Sarah Bernard, turning up after the Bernards had driven away. [...]

[...] Jane received a hand-knitted sweater from her mother as a Christmas present. In her accompanying letter Jane’s mother wrote to the effect that she was sending the sweater ahead of time because she did not “expect to be around” by Christmas. [...]

[...] Ruburt thinks of the package that his mother sent him, containing a sweater, and the stamp on the package.

[...] The package was wrapped with twine, contained a blue knitted sweater, etc. [...]