This photo was picked up from my archives. Though the shot is old but it talks till now. The picture as comforted me so warned of the blindness that would inescapably come if I would enjoy my own works:
If we focus on ourselves, the tears inescapably come because of memoirs about the earlier passions … and the weeping always distort the truth.
An artist, who enjoys his own pictures, sees just himself and that is the disability.
I recalled a quote: “Happiness is like a kiss. You must share it to enjoy it.”
Do we obey?
Please have a look at the wish for blossom out