It's one thing to realise the inherent beauty of everything in the perceptual field, all it requires perhaps is just a small sideways shift in attention, why then should it seem to be so much more complex a task to reposition everything within the field of thought and self-reflection, or all the embedded reflexes of purpose? The world is shared and beauty, even unexpressed falls under love, as a sort of gift or potential gift. But you do not love yourself, is that it? Or is that inner love is conceived at cross-purposes, misdirected both in intensity and aim? But why not even that as no more than pure phenomenon, you alone with your maker. Can't you just share a quiet joke at the expense of every cherished image and its reverse?