Some songs leave an immediate impression through their melodies, while others stay with you because of the stories and emotions behind them. For Japanese-born, Australia-based singer-songwriter Naoko Hiranuma, music is more than entertainment; it is a deeply personal way of preserving memories, navigating life’s challenges, and finding hope through every chapter. Her latest single, “Sea of Light,“ beautifully captures that philosophy, taking listeners on a cinematic journey through love, loss, gratitude, and healing.
Drawing inspiration from years spent living by the ocean and experiences across Japan, Australia, the Maldives, and Fiji, Naoko has developed a distinctive sound that blends indie pop and indie folk with heartfelt storytelling and atmospheric soundscapes. Every song reflects genuine life experiences, creating music that feels both intimate and universally relatable.
In this exclusive interview with Boostrin.com, Naoko opens up about the inspiration behind “Sea of Light,” her creative process, the influence of the ocean on her songwriting, the realities of being an independent artist, and the personal journey that continues to shape her music. She also shares thoughtful insights on resilience, cultural experiences, and why finding light after darkness remains at the heart of everything she creates.
Congratulations on the release of Sea of Light! It’s a beautifully atmospheric song that captures both romance and nostalgia. What inspired this release, and what emotions were you hoping listeners would take away from it?
Sea of Light actually began as a poem I wrote many years ago. The original draft has long since disappeared, but the memory behind it never left me. It tells the story of a brief summer romance. He couldn’t move on from the memories of his former girlfriend, so eventually we went our separate ways, and I continued with my life.
Since then, there were times when I went through some of the darkest periods of my life. Looking back now, I realise this song is no longer about heartbreak. It’s about what remains after the pain.
Yes, it’s hard when you can’t forget someone. I understand that feeling. But over the years, I came to realise how fortunate I was to have people who stayed beside me—my family, my friends, and those who genuinely cared about me. Instead of focusing on what I had lost, I learned to appreciate what I still had.
That’s why Sea of Light is really about the journey from darkness into light. Today, that distant summer is no longer just a painful memory. It has become a light within me.
I hope this song reminds people that even if life doesn’t unfold the way they once imagined, it can still be filled with love, gratitude, and quiet happiness. Even if you never find the person you thought was your soulmate, your life can still be beautiful.
Sea of Light feels incredibly cinematic, almost like watching scenes unfold in a film. When you write songs, do you naturally visualize them as stories, or does that cinematic quality emerge during production?
Yes, I usually see the scenes first.
Before I write the lyrics, I already know what the road looks like, what the sky looks like, whether it’s raining, or how the light reflects on the ocean. It’s almost like watching a film in my head. The lyrics and melody come afterwards.
Because I also create my own music videos, I don’t think of music and visuals as separate things. They’re simply different ways of telling the same story. My hope is that listeners don’t just hear the song—they feel as though they’ve stepped into that moment with me.
The song centers on a fleeting summer romance that lingers long after it’s over. Why do you think some short-lived relationships often leave the deepest and longest-lasting memories?
I think it was because he had such a strong influence on my life, even though we were together for only a short time. He wasn’t someone who relied on natural talent. He achieved everything through persistence and hard work, and I admired that. Watching him taught me that determination can be more powerful than talent.
Our story ended before we had the chance to keep the promises we had made to each other. It remained unfinished. When something ends like that, you don’t only remember what happened—you also remember what never happened. You wonder what life might have been like if things had turned out differently.
I think that’s why some short relationships stay with us for so many years. Sometimes it’s not the amount of time you spend with someone that leaves the deepest mark on your life—it’s the person you became because of them, and the future you once imagined together.
Before fully pursuing music, you worked as a diving instructor in the Maldives and Fiji and later ran a surf camp. How have those experiences by the ocean influenced your songwriting and creative perspective?
The ocean has taught me far more than I ever expected. It has taught me patience, resilience, humility, and respect for nature. Out there, you quickly learn that you can’t control the waves, the weather, or the timing. All you can do is prepare yourself, wait, and accept whatever the ocean gives you.
Life by the ocean wasn’t always easy. There were times when I wondered if life would have been much simpler had I stayed in a city with a more ordinary, predictable lifestyle. But those experiences shaped who I am. They taught me lessons I could never have learned anywhere else.
Many of those lessons naturally found their way into my songs, including Surfing Is a Waiting Game, The Ocean Decides, and Sea of Light. The ocean isn’t just a place in my music—it’s a way of seeing life.
Having spent much of your life between Japan, Australia, and other parts of the world, how has living across different cultures shaped both your identity and your music?
Living in different countries has changed the way I see the world. There are times when I feel discouraged and think, “If I were still living in Japan, life might have been easier.” But then I remind myself that I’m not in Japan. I’m living in a different country, with different values and different ways of thinking.
One of the biggest lessons I’ve learned is that what feels completely normal to us may seem unusual somewhere else. Instead of assuming my way is the right way, I’ve learned to enjoy those differences.
The same is true when I travel. Not every trip goes as planned, but even the unexpected problems eventually become stories that make me smile. I’ve been fortunate to meet people from many cultures, see incredible landscapes, and experience things I never could have imagined. Looking back, I feel grateful for all of it—the challenges as much as the good moments—because they have shaped both who I am and the music I write.
Your songs often explore love, memory, loss, and hope with remarkable subtlety. What draws you to these themes, and why do you think they resonate so universally?
I think my songs are a reflection of my own life. It hasn’t always gone the way I hoped, and there have been many times when things simply didn’t work out. I’m not someone who has lived a perfect life or always made the right choices. But those experiences became part of who I am, and writing songs is my way of giving them meaning.
I wanted to leave those moments behind—not by forgetting them, but by turning them into music. That’s why many of my songs explore similar themes. Thirty Years is about holding on to an unfulfilled love for decades. Never Trying to Be is about learning that you don’t have to change yourself just to fit in. Sea of Light is about finding hope after loss. Although the stories are different, they’re all reflections of my own journey.
I think these themes resonate because none of us gets through life without disappointment, loss, or hope. Our stories may be different, but our emotions are often the same. If my songs make someone feel understood or a little less alone, then they’ve already achieved more than I could ask for.
As an independent artist, what have been some of the biggest challenges you’ve faced in building your career, and what lessons have those experiences taught you?
One of the biggest surprises was discovering that promoting a song takes far more time, energy, and money than actually writing and recording it.
I honestly thought finishing the song would be the hard part. It turned out to be just the beginning.
As an independent artist, I do almost everything myself—from writing songs and creating music videos to contacting radio stations, playlists, blogs, and curators. I had no idea how much work happened after a song was finished.
It can be frustrating at times because great music doesn’t automatically find an audience. I’ve learned that making music and promoting music are two completely different skills.
But I’ve also learned to appreciate every small step forward. Every listener, every playlist, every radio station, and every kind message means something to me because I know how much work went into reaching that person.
Have you ever received a message from a fan that completely surprised or moved you?
One thing that continues to surprise me is discovering where my music is being heard. Sometimes I see listeners from countries I never expected, and I think that’s amazing. When I was writing these songs, I never imagined they would travel so far.
I’ve also received messages from people who said a song helped them through a difficult time or made them feel understood. Those messages mean far more to me than streaming numbers because they remind me why I started writing music in the first place.
Music has taken my songs to places I’ve never been, and connected me with people I’ll probably never meet. I think that’s one of the most beautiful things about making music.
How have you evolved as both a songwriter and a person, and how does Sea of Light represent that growth?
Writing songs has become a way of making sense of my own emotions. When I turn my thoughts into lyrics and music, everything that has been building up inside me slowly begins to settle. It’s like taking feelings that have been quietly sitting inside me for years and giving them a place to exist.
It doesn’t solve everything. Even now, there are parts of Sea of Light that are still painful for me to listen to. But I no longer feel the need to deny those feelings or lock them away. They’re part of my life, and I’ve learned to accept them instead of pretending they never existed.
Writing songs hasn’t erased the past, but it has helped me organize my thoughts and carry those memories differently. The pain hasn’t disappeared, but I do think the weight I’ve carried for so many years has become a little lighter.
To me, that’s what Sea of Light represents. Not forgetting the past, but learning to live with it—and still finding light along the way.
What exciting projects can fans look forward to, and what message would you like to leave everyone who continues to support your music?
I never really know what my next song will be. I don’t sit down and decide on a topic. Usually, a melody, a scene, or a feeling quietly appears in my mind, and I simply follow it to see where it leads.
So I’ll keep writing the songs that naturally come into my heart, whether they’re inspired by the ocean, a journey, or an ordinary moment that somehow stays with me.
To everyone who has supported my music, thank you. I never imagined these songs would reach people in so many different parts of the world. Knowing that my music has connected with people I’ll probably never meet is something I’ll never take for granted.
I don’t know where the next song will come from. But when it finds me, I’ll write it.
