“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

(Seth’s reference to a tree concerns one I had drawn directly on the kitchen wall, in India ink on the yellow paint. It happened to be one of my best drawings, done very quickly above the spot where we had placed the small refrigerator. One can look into the kitchen from one end of the living room and thus see the tree, and in a subdued light it is very effective. The big refrigerator covers it entirely since it is the only spot in the kitchen where it will fit in at all. Jane used this fact in protesting to Seth about switching the iceboxes.)

My mention of the tree in the kitchen was made because I happen to enjoy seeing it when Ruburt makes his twice-weekly journeys up and down the living room floor. A tree is a living symbol to you Joseph, but I certainly do not insist that the tree be left uncovered though personally I see no reason why any other changes have to be made in the kitchen, except for the addition of the refrigerator. I blush to think of your fine professors reading this, and for your sakes I suggest that it not be sent out with official material.

(Actually we have two refrigerators, and since our kitchen is very small we kept the smaller icebox there and the larger one in the bath. The bath is very large, an ornate and tiled affair that was once the master bath of the house before it was converted into apartments.

[...] Frank Longwell just went out back again, to finish working; the huge yellow back-hoe moves outside the kitchen window; the air suddenly turns dark; the sun disappears; an odd cast of light covers everything; stormy, evocative. [...] my neck feels heavy; Frank comes back into the kitchen for a cool drink... [...]

[...] At that time Jane was sitting at the kitchen table, perhaps seven feet from the open porch door. [...]

[...] I thought she may have yelled at the cats—but in the kitchen I saw that she was sitting at the table with shards of glass littering the rug at her feet. [...]

[...] In some strange quirk of speed and physics, this knife-edged piece had not only been blown into the kitchen, but had managed to turn nearly a right angle, missing Jane, in order to come to rest opposite her legs against the table’s leg. [...]

(The reference to a kitchen extension concerns our efforts to get our landlord to enlarge our very small kitchen. The house is having a new roof put on now, and the man doing the job is going to speak to our landlord about the kitchen project when the roof is finished. We had about given up on the kitchen idea for this year, but now our hopes rise again. Jane has been focusing on our landlord, whom we like very much incidentally, each day, concerning the kitchen. [...]

[...] And I believe it likely that you will get your kitchen extension.

[...] We have a lovely large apartment that has, unfortunately, a tiny closet-sized kitchen. When we moved in to our present apartment, the kitchen held a stove and a small refrigerator that didn’t begin to hold all our food. We got a larger one for foods that we didn’t use every day, and this second refrigerator I put in our huge bathroom, a great old-fashioned tiled room that’s easily five times as large as the kitchen. [...]

[...] He made a few kindly but definite statements to the effect that we should know better, and suggested that the appliance be moved into the kitchen, where it would hold all our refrigerated food. [...]

[...] Besides, there’s no room in the kitchen for the big refrigerator.”

[...] [Actually this must have to do with our hopes of having our kitchen enlarged.]

[...] Opening them, I find a lovely table-and-chair set of simulated wood, and I tell Rob that we can use them in our new kitchen.

[...] I am doubly angry at myself when I discover a lovely kitchen and bath between this apartment and our own, since we could have used these rooms ourselves, paying extra rent for them.

[...] moisture or easiness is now in both legs so I feel I’m moving all together more; go to fix coffee, hoping I can get out of kitchen before laundry boy arrives; do dishes, and the kid comes. I want to get out of the kitchen—it’s too late; I feel humiliated, having someone see me standing so poorly. [...]

[...] The things that paid off, the things that were indeed quite effective, were these: again, your chair suggestion —remind me to return to that, for I have not mentioned some other reasons why I would like it stressed—it being the chair; the table in the kitchen, with all of the implications of additional cooking and involvement; your remark (last week) that Ruburt’s face looked much better than it did in those old photographs; your bringing in the flowers; your lovemaking, which I will discuss; and Ruburt’s point-of-power exercises. [...]

[...] The impetus further led him around the kitchen, usually in the chair, but often to take steps in a different way from one point to another. [...]

[...] He was unhappy with some attempts he had made in the kitchen, and after some due consideration decided in this new mood of openness to discuss his feelings. [...]

[...] Around house once good—did john, kitchen & bedroom floors for 2nd time (still one short). [...]

[...] Jane had been working in the kitchen all day in preparation for the holidays. [...]

Only the kitchen incident, approximately eight ten. I do not know whose kitchen. I presume it a kitchen, because of a table of that type.

[...] I see him in a kitchen, and among some disagreement—disagreements, on this date.

[...] Looking out at the kitchen from the studio, she said the path to the kitchen looked like a “charged pathway” to her.

(Jane didn’t see or hear anything different, yet felt that the kitchen, living room, and the studio seemed different somehow. [...]

[...] Jane now said that as she worked in the kitchen then she’d been aware of the charged air between the thunderclaps. [...]

“I dreamed that I was in the kitchen of the hill house, in Elmira, crouched down just inside the room’s glass storm door, which was closed. The kitchen’s inside wooden door was wide open, just to my left. [...] I had my hands on Gus’s head as he sought to enter the kitchen through the glass.

“The dream takes place in the kitchen, a room devoted to physical nourishment. [...]

The tree on Jane’s kitchen wall is very nice, and it is also significant as far as your opening up is concerned. I cannot say that Ruburt would go mad over a painting on a kitchen wall, or anything else on a kitchen wall, but then Jane is a different Ruburt all over again.

(Yesterday Jane remarked that she had always wanted a drawing done on our kitchen wall. The kitchen is very small, but on the spur of the moment I used a brush and black waterproof ink to do a quick sketch of a tree on a limited space next to the windows. [...]

The needed change that you both need can be met in your present environment by enlarging your kitchen, and unless you can move into the country, I would not suggest that you move at all. [...]

The two changes, one in the back, and your kitchen, will satisfy you both to a large measure for quite a while, and therefore are desirable since they do not entail a wholesale breaking up of daily pattern. [...]

[...] And if you do get your kitchen enlarged, then I hope you get a window overlooking the river too. [...]

[...] She died in 1946 in the farmhouse kitchen. [...] She fell upon the kitchen floor and broke a plate.

[...] Jane had opened some fresh food for Willy, and while he ate in our very small kitchen she began putting the groceries away. Carrying an empty waste basket, I walked out to the kitchen from my studio. [...] At my approach he began to hiss and spit quite madly, and raced about in a tight little circle, not being able to get out of the kitchen. [...]

(“How about that time in the kitchen?”

[...] I didn’t move at all, though, because of the noise from the kitchen. I managed to hold the state while considering the kitchen interference, but was concerned lest any attempt at movement on my part would break the spell entirely.

[...] The geography of our kitchen in apartment four is such that noise can evidently seep through a closet wall in the bedroom and so is quite easily heard. [...]

[...] I also opened a kitchen window. [...]

[...] Now he tries to walk when you are in the kitchen so as not to bother you, but there will be times when he will want to, and can simply call.

He did not feel encouraged in those directions in the kitchen. [...]

[...] While I was alone in the kitchen, doing the dishes, I found myself wondering if Seth might “come through” and comment on the letter. [...]

[...] I could reconcile a mental voice as a valid and quite safe mechanism of the creative subconscious, as I liked to call it — but an image next to me in the kitchen while I did the dishes? [...]

[...] After the session was over, it seemed to follow me out into the kitchen while I finished the dishes.