A message came to me in a dream, about twenty five years ago, that I should take that name. It means “willow tree” in Japanese and I’ve recently discovered it also means “pleasure”. I’ve always felt a great affinity with Zen philosophy and meditation and I’ve always painted as Yanagi.

What inspires you to paint?

I like to savour the little moments that might easily go unnoticed. I can spend ages gazing at the vastness of space or the tiniest signs of life at my feet. I’m always seeking that elusive spark that ignites the passion there is in just being alive. I soak up light, colour, movement all the beauty nature offers us.

How is your work different?

I have been painting exclusively in watercolour for more than twenty years, but in a rather unorthodox way. Working with watercolour is challenging, there is a real immediacy about it …you have to be able to match that pace and go with it. Through years of experience I’ve come to understand the interplay of water, paper and colour. I use their distinct qualities to create large-scale paintings, which you rarely see in watercolours. My fascination with the medium centres more on colour. I use the water to carry the colour rather than dilute it. I work by building up layer upon layer of colour, wash after wash, until I’ve created a richness I can taste. Despite the depth this process achieves, a translucent quality remains.

How do you record the things you see?

I spend a lot of time just observing the natural world then I work mostly from memory. Occasionally I’ll bring back stones from the beach, leaves or the bark of trees. Some things won’t fit in my pocket, like a sunset or the caves of Nerja and so I’ll take a photo.

How do people react to your work?

Because the work is abstract some people want me to tell them what inspired it, but usually I prefer not to limit a painting in that way. It can literally be all things to all people. Many have said they feel they could either be looking at some thing through a telescope or a microscope and that’s true because the Universe really is like that, the microcosm reflects the macrocosm and vice versa. The main thing people comment on is the sense of peace and serenity the work inspires in them.

How do you know when a painting is finished?

Knowing when to stop is perhaps the most important thing, especially as I’m pushing the boundaries of what watercolour can do. It’s a process. There’s a period of intense work, then I have to be patient and walk away. Later, I return to it with fresh eyes and decide whether to carry on or frame it. It’s not a precise science it’s more of an instinct.

How prolific are you?

Very! For the past ten years, because of the support I’ve had from people who collect my work, I’ve been fortunate enough to be able to concentrate entirely on painting. That is a real luxury and I have been able to produce a very large body of work. For me painting is like breathing, stopping is not an option.

Is it hard for you to let go of a painting once it’s finished?

No. I enjoy working on them. I enjoy rediscovering them when I come to frame them. I love the impact of seeing a large body of work hanging together in a show. I’m happy when someone really “gets” it and takes it away. Very often I will visit someone later and see they have a painting of mine that I’d forgotten all about and it’s like seeing an old friend. Naturally I have favourites, but I’m happy for them just to exist wherever they may be.
Tell us something about your background

I grew up in Minneapolis, an urban environment with a great wealth of both public and private art collections. It was a very stimulating place to be but fortunately I got to spend a lot of time in the wilderness away from the city at a cabin built by my father. This dual existence has been extremely important to me throughout my life. After finishing my degree at the University of Minnesota I travelled to Norway and stayed both in Oslo and in a remote mountain village before exploring the rest of Scandinavia.

Barcelona was my first experience of Spain and it was there I met my wife. Again there we led a dual life spending the week in the city and the weekend at my little place on the other side of Tibidabo in San Cugat.

The bright lights of London followed where I worked in the theatrical staging business. After nearly a decade in the big city we were ready for a change and headed to Ireland to the amazing town of Clonakilty in West Cork.

It was in this stimulating environment that my painting career really took off. For the next decade, the view from beyond my back door provided the inspiration and exhibitions in Dublin and London have provided the audience. Over the past few years, I have also been spending a lot of time in Andalucia.