The Art of Blending: Oils, Myth, and the Inner Eye

      

By Candace Covington

Vedic philosophy teaches that the sense of sight corresponds with the third chakra, manipura, the seat of fire, digestion, and will. More than just a physical function, sight is the act of becoming awake. This chakra governs how we understand and metabolize what we see, not only in terms of color and form, but also meaning and myth. Vision offers a direct path to insight, and blending oils through the lens of art and archetype becomes a practice in intuitive seeing.   This reminds me of the Rorschach test, in which an individual interprets a set of inkblots, revealing unconscious material through visual association. In its own way, nature offers a far more nuanced invitation—one with fragrance, beauty, and symbol embedded within it. Each plant distillation holds a frequency that resonates with psyche and story. When we blend these substances intentionally, we aren't just creating fragrance; we are creating meaning.   Poet and mystic William Blake once said, "The Eye, altering, alters all." This phrase captures the crux of this approach: our perception not only changes what we see, it changes us. One viewer may see serenity in a painting; another, sorrow. A third might feel unease or curiosity. Each reaction is valid, rooted in personal history, karma, and emotional need. Art allows us to open the gate of perception and enter the imaginal realm where healing stories live.   Myth, dream, memory, and plants are all part of a symbolic language that invites interaction. This inner world contains archetypes—the handless maiden, the green god Osiris, the war god Mars, the love goddess Venus, the shadowy figure of Pluto. Through plant allies, we can integrate these stories into our bodies and subtle systems. Fixed spinach oil becomes the essence of abundance and fecundity. Pink damask rose absolute channels Venus. Frankincense and vetiver recall sacred ground. The oils act as mediums, giving scent and texture to mythic energies that move through us.   When the Myth Looks Back: Goya and Saturn   A striking example of unconscious urges expressed through art is Francisco Goya’s painting Saturn Devouring His Son. Created between 1820 and 1823 as part of the artist’s so-called Black Paintings, it is a raw depiction of Saturn’s desperation to avoid being overthrown by one of his children. In the myth, Saturn (Cronus in Greek mythology) swallows each newborn to prevent this fate. Their mother, Rhea, saves Zeus by tricking Saturn with a swaddled stone, hiding her child until he is grown. Eventually, Zeus challenges his father, liberates his siblings, and fulfills the prophecy.   In Goya’s painting, Saturn is skeletal, ghostlike, his eyes wild. The image speaks of more than mythology—it touches on themes of aging, fear, the devouring nature of time, the fear of replacement, the violence of survival. Goya painted this directly on the walls of his home, reflecting the intense social, political, and spiritual unrest of his time. Spain was reeling from war, authoritarian rule, and religious repression. Saturn Devouring His Son is not just about the myth—it is a mirror of the human condition.   This mythic imagery invites an inquiry: What oils resonate with Saturn’s story? With Rhea’s grief and cleverness? With Zeus’s triumph? With the swallowed gods and goddesses? The emotions that arise—fear, helplessness, sacrifice, rebirth—can guide your selection. Blending becomes a ritual of response, a way to hear the deep inner self and offer it support.   Saturn Blend   9 drops benzoin absolute   1/2 cup fixed black currant oil   1/4 cup fractionated coconut oil   This deceptively simple blend is powerful. Benzoin absolute offers a warm, resinous tone that reflects Saturn’s underworld themes—introspection, descent, and the hidden self. It mirrors the myth of Hades (Pluto), Saturn’s son and ruler of the underworld. Benzoin supports the long inward journey that reveals inner riches: deep wisdom, creativity, and strength forged in silence.   Black currant oil helps untangle the layered self, peeling away persona to access your original being. It is the oil of the night journey—the one that guides you through shadow into essence. Fractionated coconut oil carries the blend with purity and ease.   Apply this blend to the second chakra, the energetic center of emotion, collective unconscious, and dream. This is where transformation through imagery occurs—where myth lives in fluid form, and where fragrance can help restore balance and insight.   Blending As Seeing   Each blend is a small act of mythmaking. You are the seer, the blender, and the subject. Your body becomes the scroll on which the story is written. A single drop of oil can stir memory, awaken archetypes, or soothe deep emotion. Blending in this way is not about crafting a perfect formula—it’s about meaningful connection.   The painter Klimt believed that the viewer completes the artwork. So too, the oil is completed by the one who applies it. Your skin, your story, your need—it all participates. This is the beauty of blending as a creative act. It is not prescriptive. It is personal, intimate, and evolving.   Prompts for Mythic Blending   . Which character in the Saturn myth do you relate to most right now—Saturn, Rhea, Zeus, or one of the swallowed deities?   . What emotional tones emerge when you view Saturn Devouring His Son? How might those emotions guide a blend?   . What oil feels like protection? Which one feels like hope?   . What would a redemption blend smell like for you?   . What would you need to feel ready for rebirth?   The Inner Eye, the Hidden World   To blend with myth is to let the imaginal speak. Art gives us a map. Oils give us a tool. Our skin and fragrance become the portal. When we allow these elements to collaborate, something potent occurs: the archetypal becomes accessible. The unseen becomes felt. The story becomes lived. And in doing so, you don't just apply a blend—you awaken an aspect of yourself.   Francisco Goya, Saturn Devouring His Son. One of the 14 Black Paintings Goya painted directly onto the walls of his home between 1820 and 1823. Public Domain.     Candace Covington