Gareth Naylor

Atmospheric paintings of Japan

Author: Gareth Naylor

  • Painting rays of light passing through trees in a Japanese park

    Painting rays of light passing through trees in a Japanese park

    A few years ago I went with my wife and daughter to a family walking event.

    It was at a park around the art museum in a district called Ueno.

    The park is situated on a hill.

    And it has a path that leads you through a densely forested area with some open glades.

    When we arrived we found a small group of dads, mums and excited children.

    I noticed that even though we were only going to walk around a small park, many of the parents were fully kitted out with professional hiking gear.

    Having the best gear and the whole set, is something Japanese people like to do.

    Anyway, it was a nice day out.

    And along the path there were various interesting things to see.

    The most interesting of which, at least for me, was the pond.

    This seemingly innocuous pond was full of crabs.

    I was told there were about a 1000 in it.

    Which was impressive because it was a small pond.

    I was further told that these crabs had come from America.

    They are called “zarigani” in Japanese.

    In English, they are called crayfish. 

    And these crabs are nasty as they like to pinch.

    One man took one out and showed us.

    As you can imagine the kids were thrilled.

    And then he did what we all wanted to see.

    He let the crab pinch his finger.

    And he couldn’t completely conceal a wince when the crab pinched him and drew blood.

    He had a bit of a tough time getting the crab off his finger but at last managed to do so and put it back in the pond.

    It was a nice day out.

    However, the day after that outing, I got a mark on my arm.

    It was an ugly mark and it was really itchy. 

    It took a few weeks before it went. 

    I guess something unpleasant had bitten me during the outing in the park.

    In Japan, you have to be very careful what you touch in natural areas. 

    They have a tick in my prefecture that can even kill you.

     I guess that’s why even in the middle of the hot and humid Japanese summer the Japanese farmers cover their bodies completely. 

    The only part of them you can see is their nose and eyes.

    But me, the foolish romantic artist, am often prancing around the countryside in sandals and shorts. 

    What I’ve learnt though is that it’s a good idea to copy the local yokel.

    Anyway, I did no paintings of this place on this occasion. 

    But a year or so later in November of 2020 I was looking through some photos on my cell phone and came across one from this outing. 

    And when I looked at it I suddenly got the inspiring idea of rays of light shooting through those dark trees and lighting up a small group of people.

    Luckily I acted on such inspiration, which you should always do, and immediately started to paint it.

    I am delighted with the result.

    This beautiful effect of light passing through trees is called “komorebi” in Japanese.

    And this is how it is spelt in Chinese characters “木漏れ日”.

    木 (pronounced ko) means tree, 漏れ (pronounced more) means light passing through and 日 (pronounced bi) means sun.

    That’s all for now,

    Gareth.

  • Painting of a beautiful Japanese beach at evening time

    Painting of a beautiful Japanese beach at evening time

    Recently we went on a family trip to Matama. 

    This is a coastal area famous for its sandbanks that look so beautiful when the sun sets. 

    And, luckily, we had arrived on a very sunny day.

    The tide was slowly coming in and creating a dramatic pattern of meandering streams through the sand.

    A lot of people were on the beach digging. 

    Out of curiosity I asked what they were looking for and was told mategai. 

    I later found out that this is a long, white tubular thing that doesn’t look appetising at all. 

    In English it is called “Gould’s Razor Shell”, which doesn’t make it much clearer for me.

    You catch a mategai by digging a small hole and then sprinkling salt in it. 

    The mategai then rises and you pluck it out and put it in a bucket of water. 

    Or at least I guess so because I didn’t watch that closely.

    During my “research” on the net, I found one foreigner who described mategai as a fairly edible bivalve mollusc. 

    Mmm, “fairly edible”, could you imagine that description on a restaurant menu. 

    It would be like ordering a “fairly edible soup”.

    But the people on the beach looked pretty excited.

    And in case you didn’t know, the Japanese eat some strange things.

    To give a few succulent examples: fresh and warm turtle blood with red wine – they have that at a place called Ajimu in my own prefecture; raw horse meat – they have that in the prefecture next to mine, Kumamoto, which is famous for this speciality – and then in Tokyo I think they eat locusts – or try to, it seems they sometimes run out because of the high demand.

    Such strange things are what make Japan such a wonderful place. 

    It reminds me of my favorite novelist Jack Vance and his wonderfully exotic and fantastic worlds. 

    I wonder if he was inspired by Japan. 

    I’m over using the word wonder but it’s the right word to use.

    Anyway, to return from wondering to wandering.

    I did a lot of wandering across the beach to find pleasing images to paint and I have now done quite a few paintings from this one trip. 

    It has become a “series” which almost sounds like the word “serious” and that’s what a series really is, when you get very serious about a subject and paint a lot of pictures of it.

    The painting above is one of my favorites. 

    As you can see, I didn’t hold back with the colors.

    And my sunglasses might have influenced the painting somewhat. 

    They are tinted and they give everything a warm glow. 

    I actually like this effect and don’t mind it getting passed into the final image.

    There was a small restaurant by the beach and after the sun set we ordered toriten which is basically fried chicken. 

    I don’t think they offered mategai but I didn’t bother to ask either. 

    In many ways, I’m not so adventurous.

    We ate our fried chicken whilst enjoying the view of the sun setting over the sea. 

    It was a moment of calm, content beauty.

    I hope you all have such moments.

    And that’s all for now, 

    Mata ne,

    Gareth.

    Postscript

    I originally wrote this story in May of 2016, 

    I’m editing it in August of 2021.

    And I also re edited it in March of 2024.

  • I got a commission to paint a Japanese torii gate

    I got a commission to paint a Japanese torii gate

    Framed print available to buy

    In 2020, I did an exhibition at the main department store in my local city of Oita.

    It went well and I sold about 12 to 13 paintings.

    Nearly all of these were sales of paintings on display.

    However, I did get 2 commissions.

    And one of them is of this Japanese torii gate in Kitsuki.

    The client goes surfing at this place and so it has sentimental value for him.

    And the client always orders a painting for his wife for their wedding anniversary.

    I’ve been to Kitsuki many times but I’ve never seen this place before.

    And I’m delighted to see it because it’s a beautiful subject matter.

    I’ve heard though that the torii got damaged this year in a strong typhoon.

    However, there is now a campaign to restore it.

    Hopefully, in 2021 I will go to this place and paint the actual scene.

    That’s all for now,

    Gareth.

  • The Kitchen Table Artist

    The Kitchen Table Artist

    A few years ago I met a young man who had decided to live out his dream and become an artist.

    I was quite surprised by his decision because he seemed such a sensible and pragmatic person. 

    I never took him to be the kind of romantic fool that chooses to become an artist – such as myself.

    The first thing he did was rent an apartment room as a studio.

    He thought this was essential. 

    He even grew a wispy beard that made him look somewhat Amish. 

    I must admit, that I was a little shocked by the change as before he’d been a smooth-faced, suit and tie man doing an office job at the local city hall.

    At this point in time, I’d been painting seriously for quite a few years and all without a studio. 

    I’d never even contemplated getting a studio.

    I was also quite poor.

    If I had any money it went on art materials.

    I think this wannabe artist wanted the studio because it was free of distractions. 

    In my opinion, this was already a bad sign.

    And I was right.

    I don’t know what exactly happened, either he didn’t go to the studio, or when he got there he wanted to return to the distractions, but either way it was eventually an expense he couldn’t afford and the studio went and so did the dream of being an artist.

    For some reason, which I still cannot fathom, he had this notion that a real artist needs a studio.

    I suppose as an artist who paints outdoors a lot I know that painting isn’t limited to a studio.

    In fact, for a long time some of my best work was produced outdoors. 

    Perhaps this is because there is a ‘charged’ feeling when you paint outdoors and this energy seems to mysteriously pass into the work.

    But even when you paint indoors, you don’t need a special studio space in order to create beautiful paintings.

    The painting above, for instance, was painted at my kitchen table. 

    And I have a wife and children.

    So this is not some solitary space in which I can be the Artist.

    Yet, despite being painted in such a “humble” setting, I think the painting above is a beautiful piece of artwork.

    And just in case you are wondering.

    This painting is of a place called Sasebo in Nagasaki prefecture. 

    It’s famous for having over 200 islands. 

    For me, it’s a source of deep inspiration.

    Anyway, I wanted to show that beautiful art can be created anywhere if there is the desire or will to do so.

    Of course, if I ever got the chance I’d like a studio too.

    Or at least I think I would. 

    What I really want is for my brush and paper to be about 5 steps from my bed. 

    And that’s what I have now.

    What do you think, is a studio essential for an artist? 

    Did it make a big difference in the quality of your work or in any other way?

    Postscript

    I originally wrote this story in April of 2015. 

    I no longer paint at the kitchen table – much to my wife’s relief. 

    There was a period when I literally colonized the kitchen table and permanently had my art materials on it. 

    The family ate their meals on another table in another room. 

    Sadly, I didn’t put any cover on the table and one area of the table became rotten. 

    It was so bad that vivid green mold began to grow there. 

    I must admit that I was a bit alarmed when I saw that.

    And perhaps it was for this reason, although I’m not sure now, that I migrated to a room upstairs which then became my bedroom and my “studio”.

    That was a much better arrangement for everyone. 

    My brush and paper were about 5 steps from my bed!

    Now I live in another house. 

    But I still have the same arrangement.

    In fact, some might consider it better.

    As my brush and paper are now only about 3 steps from my bed. 

    That’s all for now,

    Gareth.

  • Getting depressed over a disappointing painting

    Getting depressed over a disappointing painting

    In January of 2024, I painted a lot of snow scenes.

    If you watch the video, you will see how many – and this is not all of them.

    Anyway, there was one painting I did that was really bad which you can see in the video.

    I felt so disappointed with that picture.

    And then that feeling of disappointment increased and became a deep depression.

    It was so bad that I just put my paintbrush down and went for a walk by my local river.

    This was a good idea.

    I love walking by the river.

    And the sunshine, fresh air and exercise started to disperse that deep depression.

    Then later on, I looked through some of my photos on my cell phone and found an image that I really liked and wanted to paint.

    And this got me to pick up the paintbrush again.

    I think basically I got burn-out with a particular subject matter which in this case was snow scenes because I painted so many pictures of this subject.

    The irony is that after painting a different subject matter, my enthusiasm for snow scenes came back and I went on to paint some more snow scenes.

    How ridiculous is that.

    Anyway, as you can see from the painting above, I did manage to paint some good pictures too.

    Well, that’s all for now,

    Gareth.

  • Getting lost in the Japanese countryside at night

    Getting lost in the Japanese countryside at night

    Sometimes when I paint outdoors remarkable things happen and I don’t even know that they are happening but they later come back and influence my life.

    For instance, last year, a man who I can’t remember spoke to me while I was outside painting. It turns out that he is a sculptor and quite famous here.

    He knows another man who has a cafe with an exhibition space and told him about me which in turn led to a meeting with the cafe owner and having a talk about doing an exhibition.

    The next step was a visit to the cafe which is in a remote area of my prefecture. It is called Kuju and it is a beautiful national park. The owner gave me a map to help me find the place. But even with the map I thought on several occasions that I’d made a wrong turn. Luckily, I hadn’t but it took almost three and a half hours to get there when it should have taken about an hour and a half.

    I did though stop at one point to do a painting. I have learned to always be an opportunist when painting outdoors!

    The cafe is very new and still smells of fresh wood. It’s beautifully designed and the tables and chairs are handmade. There is even a wood-fire stove of American design.

    It’s situated very dramatically at the bottom of a mountain. The site had originally been a small pine wood but the owner and his brother had spent five years chopping all the trees down to make a clearing for the cafe.

    The owner, Mr. Akizuki, (whose name means autumn moon in English), had been a ladies fashion designer and worked in France for a while as well as Tokyo. And he is one of the nicest people I’ve ever met. And I don’t say that just because I received two cups of good coffee and cheesecake for free – although that is a first. I say it because he really wanted to befriend me.

    We had a wonderful talk about art, his cafe and everything else. It was a nice day. He showed me the gallery space and we arranged a time for my exhibition.

    Then I went home and did very little. Well, I already had the paintings and the frames. By slow degrees I did though prepare for the exhibition. But to my regret I have always been someone who leaves things to the last minute. Well last week in this case.

    So when the day of setting up the exhibition came I wasn’t really fully prepared. Although in my defense, I would say that I’m getting better.

    When I went to the cafe to set up my exhibition it took about 5 hours. I had assumed that it would only take about 1 or 2 hours. And I had also assumed that I would be going home in the daylight but by the time I finished it was getting dark outside.

    It wasn’t all work though. There was another free cup of coffee and a piece of cheesecake. And then it was time to go home. Mr Akizuki asked me if I’d be okay traveling back. I replied nonchalantly that I’d be fine.

    I couldn’t have been more wrong.

    On the way home, I saw a sign for Oita, the city where I live, and it was the main route, but much longer than the small road I’d come by. I chose the small road and what should have been the shortcut. I wish that I’d heeded the saying that shortcuts make for long delays which I read in The Lord of the Rings.

    Well, my choice was a mistake.

    At some point I came to a crossroads which I wasn’t expecting. I had come this way in the morning but it was now pitch dark and I had no sense of direction.

    I took the road on my right. After 20 minutes on this road I knew that I had taken a wrong turn.

    To add to my disconcerted feeling it was starting to rain heavily and become very misty. Sometimes it was so misty I had to slow the car down to a crawl.

    I reversed into a side track and looked at my map but I couldn’t understand where the crossing was and where I was now.

    I knew this road went to Shonai, which is a small town, and that from Shonai I would find a road that would lead me to the city where I lived so I decided to continue along it. After all, how much further could it be?

    A lot as it turned out.

    I continued along this road for about another 30 minutes until eventually reaching Shonai and finding a sign with the name of the city where I lived.

    In all that time, I saw only two cars and no people. There were no houses and no signs of civilization. It was just an endless line of trees.

    It felt spooky.

    Although I felt relief to finally reach Shonai and get my bearings, I knew that I had taken a very long detour and that from Shonai it would also take a long time before reaching home.

    I arrived home after 9. Everybody had finished dinner. The welcome I expected from my incredibly cute daughter (two years old) wasn’t there, sometimes it is and sometimes it isn’t.

    But it was nice to be home. Dinner was delicious and the red wine was relaxing.

    I’ll be going back to the cafe on Sunday to deliver my promotional cards. The weather will again be bad and I may come home late. I want to say that I’ll take the long main route but I may take that short cut again. Who knows where I’ll end up this time.

    That’s all,

    Gareth.

    Postscript

    I originally wrote this story in April of 2015.

    There was no painting to go with this story so I added one. Although this painting was possibly done as late as 2019, it is of a wet and dark road just like I wrote about in the story and this painting might even have been inspired by this adventure – or should I say misadventure.

  • Painting a mountain in watercolor

    Painting a mountain in watercolor

    This place is called Mt Aso. It’s in Kumamoto prefecture, Japan.

    I visited this place in the autumn of 2022 with my family.

    We had a great time.

    Video demo

    Downloadable photo

    2022 12 Aso mountainDownload
  • Painting the last glow of the day

    Painting the last glow of the day

    A few weeks ago, I suddenly found myself with some free time.

    It was late afternoon and cold.

    So I jumped on my bike with my watercolor gear and started roaming the streets looking for a scene to paint.

    At this time of the day, I’m looking for long dramatic shadows cast by the tall apartment buildings.

    Sadly, I had left it too late as the sun was so low in the sky that the whole ground was in shade.

    And then I saw a building, just the one, glowing like a warm orange candle in the last light of the day.

    It captured my interest but then the doubts crept in. I’d never painted anything like this before. I wondered if I could do a good painting. And then I wondered if it would be too uncomfortable as I would be painting in the shade and it was very cold.

    The doubts won. I cycled on looking for a more open space area where it might be warmer and there might still be some dramatic shadows on the ground.

    Yet after a short while of searching and finding nothing and feeling time slipping away very quickly I returned to the original spot that had caught my interest.

    I had perhaps 15 minutes to paint it before that final glow of the sun was gone.

    Quickly, I started painting. It was intense. I finished the painting in the dark. And to my surprise I loved the result.

    Gareth.

    Postscript

    I originally wrote this story in April of 2015, I am editing it in June of 2022. 

    The original title of this story was “Seizing the last light of the day” but I changed this to “Painting the last glow of the day”. 

    I am still happy with this painting because it was a totally new thing I did but I would like to paint it again at some point and do a better job of it. 

    Although, that said, I do think this painting captures very well the atmosphere of that moment and that can be something very difficult to reproduce so this thought makes me hesitant to paint it again.

  • Retreats towards success in painting a difficult subject

    Retreats towards success in painting a difficult subject

    Last year, 2014, I went to Sasebo, which is in Nagasaki, Japan. It is a wonderful place with many many islands. It’s called 99 islands though there are actually over 200.

    I was with the family and thus had no chance to paint on site as I like to do so I had to do my paintings from the photographs I took of this place.

    However, I soon encountered difficulties in trying to paint this scene well.

    And I became thoroughly disappointed with my results.

    I felt like I was trying to paint a scene that was beyond my ability to paint well.

    Finally, I became so disappointed by my repeated poor results that I had to retreat from this particular subject and forget about it. I did this by focusing on other painting subjects.

    After a week or so I returned and had another attempt. Again I got disappointing results and this led to another retreat.

    The third time I met with success. And I consider the painting above one of my successes.

    However, I still feel that even this successful result can be improved upon. And I’m now enjoying doing further paintings of the same scene with some variations.

    Gareth.

    Postscript

    I originally wrote this story in February of 2015.

  • Painting a beautiful countryside scene near a cafe where I will have an exhibition

    Painting a beautiful countryside scene near a cafe where I will have an exhibition

    So this is not really a story but just an attempt to add some context to this painting.

    In my story “Taking a wrong turn” you can learn about how I came to know the owner of a cafe with a gallery called Mizushi no Mori.

    This cafe is situated in Kuju which is a beautiful national park.

    And although my primary purpose in visiting this cafe was to get the chance to exhibit there, I couldn’t help appreciating the beautiful countryside around the cafe.

    The painting above is from a scene I saw near this cafe.

    It was February. At that time of the year, there are beautiful leafless trees and golden fields.

    Towards the end of this year, 2015, I reused the same scene and turned it into a snow scene. I then used this snow scene image on Christmas cards for my family.

    Watercolor painting of fields covered in snow
    “Snow-covered fields”

    That’s all,

    Gareth.

    Postscript

    This story was written in February of 2015.