Love is not a feeling, it is a Practice 2026
Rainwater, butterfly pea flower, charcoal, and acrylic ink on canvas
A soft grey sea fades into a warm, misted sky, the horizon nearly gone. Rainwater, butterfly pea flower, and charcoal from natural fires are layered in thin washes, so the water and air seem to breathe into each other.
Across the center, Brian O’Hara writes the phrase in fine white line, backwards, in his language. Loops, dots, and long diagonals cross from sky into water, drawn lightly enough that they almost disappear into the mist. The words are there, though they read first as a quiet gesture, something said softly and meant.
Love is not a feeling, it is a Practice 2026
Rainwater, butterfly pea flower, charcoal, and acrylic ink on canvas
A soft grey sea fades into a warm, misted sky, the horizon nearly gone. Rainwater, butterfly pea flower, and charcoal from natural fires are layered in thin washes, so the water and air seem to breathe into each other.
Across the center, Brian O’Hara writes the phrase in fine white line, backwards, in his language. Loops, dots, and long diagonals cross from sky into water, drawn lightly enough that they almost disappear into the mist. The words are there, though they read first as a quiet gesture, something said softly and meant.