Climb Reflected Twice: the figure is smaller than the rain

Stone stairs under maples, one figure halfway up, rain falling harder than I planned.

The rain I painted fell harder than I planned, and that changed everything.

I work rain-lit lantern paths in Kyoto and Tokyo. Maple reds and cherry pinks against indigo. Knife-textured reflections on wet stone. One small distant figure with an umbrella, always. This piece is stone stairs to a hillside shrine under maples. One figure halfway up.

The figure is smaller than usual. The rain matters more.

Yuki Tanaka with Climb Reflected Twice in the studio
Yuki Tanaka with Climb Reflected TwiceStudio photograph, composed with AI. The print itself is exactly the artwork — colour and crop here can drift a little.

The knife caught more paint than I meant

Ruby said the palette knife work captures the weight and texture of rain-soaked steps, and she is right about the how. What I did not plan was the amount. I was after the usual gloss – wet stone holding light – but the knife loaded heavier and the rain became the stairs became the rain.

Three pulls across each step. Indigo, then grey, then a sliver of reflected maple. The third pull is where it thickened. By the eighth stair I knew this was a different piece.

The figure appears smaller because the weather is heavier. That is the correct proportion.

Climb Reflected Twice: the figure is smaller than the rain by Yuki Tanaka, shown in a room
Climb Reflected Twice — Yuki Tanaka

Valentina called it elegant, which surprises me

Valentina wrote that this blends texture and colour with elegance. I think she means the maples, which are restrained for me – more rust than fire, more October than November. But elegant is not a word I use for my own work.

Rain is not elegant. Rain is heavy and specific and arrives when it wants. The figure climbs anyway. That is the part I care about.

Charlotte called it romantic. I do not see romance in weather, but I will not argue with how someone else looks.

The canvas holds more texture than the scan shows

This is knife work throughout. No brush. The ridges catch light in person – small peaks where indigo meets grey, where the maple reflection sits on top of the stair instead of inside it.

A print flattens that. It keeps the colour and the composition. It does not keep the blade edge. If you want the actual surface, the ridges you could touch, you want the canvas.

If you want the image – stairs, rain, one figure halfway up – the print is exact.

For

For people who know that weather changes a place more than season does. For anyone who has climbed wet stairs and felt the air thicken halfway up.

Not for bright walls. Not for summer rooms.

See Climb Reflected Twice

Gallery-wrapped canvas, in 3 sizes — 14×11, 20×16, 24×18 in. Ships free within the continental US.

Climb Reflected Twice by Yuki Tanaka
Climb Reflected Twice — see it in the shop

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