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Wind & Water
Fine Art by Diana Vodjansky
Every painting has a story. Here, I share some of the people, places, and moments that inspire my art, along with a little of what happens along the way.
~ Striped Companions – The Painting That Started It All ~
Sometimes, a painting becomes much more than something we create. Sometimes, it becomes the beginning of a journey we never quite expected.
In August 2025, I painted Striped Companions, a watercolor of two zebras sharing a quiet moment of affection. I was still relatively early in my watercolor journey, experimenting with techniques, learning to mix colors, and discovering just how much I wanted to explore as an artist.
I've always been drawn to subjects that inspire me, but inspiration alone is rarely enough. I also look for something that will challenge me, something that stretches my abilities and encourages me to try a different approach.
Striped Companions certainly did that.
I came across a freely available reference photograph of two zebras and was immediately struck by the tenderness of their pose. There was something beautiful about the companionship between them, the quiet affection expressed without a single word. I wanted to capture that connection in watercolor.
But there was another reason I chose them. I wanted to challenge myself to paint something black. At the time, I was just beginning to discover the possibilities of mixing my own colors. The distinctive black-and-white markings of the zebras presented an entirely new challenge. How could I create the depth, variation, and richness of those dark stripes while preserving the softness and emotion of the animals themselves?
I don't remember the exact pigments or combinations I experimented with, but I certainly remember the challenge. In fact, it took three attempts before I finally felt I had captured what I wanted to convey—the tenderness of their pose, the color relationships, and the overall character of the painting.
That determination to keep experimenting until something feels right has remained an important part of my creative process.
Even today, I rarely approach a painting simply because I know how to paint the subject. I enjoy exploring different techniques, styles, color combinations, and levels of detail. Sometimes I want to paint loosely and expressively, allowing watercolor to move and mingle on the paper. Other times, I'm drawn to the challenge of capturing intricate details or the particular personality of an animal.
My subjects are just as varied. I might notice something while going about my day that sparks an idea, or find inspiration in photographs I've taken over the years. Sometimes I'll combine elements from several photographs to create the composition I have in mind. A landscape might bring back a treasured memory, while an animal's expression might reveal a personality I can't resist trying to capture.
And sometimes, as with Striped Companions, it's simply the affection between two animals that captures my heart. Since painting these zebras, I've found myself returning to that theme, painting other animals together in moments of friendship, tenderness, and companionship.
I don't want to limit myself to one subject, one style, or one way of painting. The freedom to explore, experiment, and continually challenge myself is one of the things I love most about watercolor.
But what I couldn't have known in August 2025 was that Striped Companions would challenge me in another, entirely unexpected way.
The Encouragement That Changed Everything
When my daughter Alicia and her boyfriend Shawn saw the finished painting, their reaction genuinely surprised me.
Alicia was enthusiastic, and Shawn, who had never seen my artwork before, was particularly impressed. They were both taken with the painting, and Shawn encouraged me to put my work out into the world for others to see.
Their encouragement meant more than they probably realized. Until then, painting had been about my own exploration and enjoyment. The thought of sharing my artwork more publicly, much less entering competitions, was an entirely different step.
Sometimes, it takes someone else seeing the possibilities in something you've created to give you the confidence to take that step. For me, Striped Companions became that turning point.
A First Competition and an Unexpected Award
With that encouragement, I entered Striped Companions in my very first art competition, hosted by TERAVARNA.
The painting received a Talent Prize, which included a monetary award. I was thrilled. Not only was this my first competition, but it was also my first cash award for my artwork. To this day, it remains the only painting for which I've received prize money.
That recognition was especially meaningful because I knew how much effort had gone into creating it. Three attempts, countless experiments with color, and a determination to capture something more than simply the appearance of two zebras.
It was encouraging to discover that what I had worked so hard to express could resonate with others.
A New Chapter for an Old Favorite
More than a year later, in October 2026, Striped Companions received another unexpected honor—a Bronze Award in Camelback Gallery's international Black and White 14 Art Awards competition. There was something particularly satisfying about seeing one of my earlier paintings recognized again, especially one that had played such an important role in my decision to share my artwork.
My watercolor journey has continued to evolve since August 2025. I've experimented with countless color mixtures, explored new techniques, tackled unfamiliar subjects, and challenged myself to work both more loosely and with greater detail. Some paintings come together naturally, while others require patience, persistence, and occasionally a fresh start. But that is exactly what keeps painting exciting for me. I never know what will catch my attention next or where a new idea might lead. What I do know is that I'll continue exploring, experimenting, and pushing myself beyond what I've already learned.
When I look at Striped Companions today, I see far more than a painting of two zebras. I remember the challenge of creating it, the three attempts it took to get there, and the encouragement from Alicia and Shawn that helped me take my first steps toward sharing my art.
The awards are wonderful reminders of how far that painting has traveled, but its greatest significance will always be more personal. Striped Companions wasn't just a painting that challenged me as an artist. It was the painting that encouraged me to see where my art could take me.
Striped Companions
~ To Reggie, With Love ~
It began when my cousin sent me a photograph of a painting that had belonged to her mother, my late Aunt Dorothy. Dorothy was one of my grandfather Reggie’s daughters, and the painting was one I knew well.
As a child, I would stop and look at it whenever we visited my aunt’s house. My eyes always went to the little cabin beside the river. I wondered who lived there and what their days were like, surrounded by those mountains and trees.
My mother, Alice, who is Reggie’s daughter and Dorothy’s sister, believes her dad painted the original oil in the late 1930s, while the family was living in Libby, Montana, shortly before they moved to Portland. He died in 1956, the year before I was born, so I never had the chance to meet him. I like to think my love of art came from him.
With his painting beside me, I began my own watercolor, Reggie’s View, Through My Eyes. I kept the cabin, river, trees, and mountains that had held my attention since childhood, while letting watercolor bring its own light and movement to the scene. As I worked, I found myself wondering what had inspired him to paint it—and what inspired all the other beautiful things he created.
I never knew my grandfather, but I feel close to him when I dip my brush in paint. Creating my own version of a painting I’ve loved for so long felt like a way to spend time with him, and to say thank you.
Reggie's View, Through My Eyes
Reginald Nepean's Original Oil, circa 1939
~ Forever Dancing ~
This painting began with a photograph my daughter Haley took of her daughter, Izzy, at the park. At twelve, Izzy is always having fun and forever dancing. A stack of rocks became the perfect place to strike a pose—just typical Izzy, finding an opportunity to dance wherever she goes.
Her dancing photographs are irresistible to me. I see such elegance in her movements, even in these playful moments, and this one made me want to pick up my brush and give it a try.
I took some creative license with the setting, replacing the background with a colorful sky. I wanted to give her pose room to shine and capture that feeling of freedom and movement. Looking back, I wish I had included more of the rocks beneath her feet. They were such a memorable part of the original photograph, and that is something I’ll carry with me into future paintings.
I entered Low Takes Flight in Teravarna’s Open Online Art Contest, where it received an Honorable Mention. That recognition was a lovely addition to an already personal painting.
Afterward, I framed it and gave it to Izzy. She was thrilled—and seeing her excitement was the most rewarding part of all.
Low Takes Flight
Izzy, at Age Twelve, Forever Dancing
Photographed by her Mom, Haley
~The Restorer's Touch~
Giving the Past Another Life
Sometimes inspiration begins with one thing and quietly leads somewhere entirely different.
I came across an image of an old leather briefcase painted in beautiful, weathered shades of gold, rust, and brown. I was immediately drawn to the warmth and character of those colors, but they soon had me thinking about my daughter, Alicia, working in her Blackbird & Rose Studio.
Alicia restores old furniture, and I am continually amazed by her ability to look at a worn or forgotten piece and see what it can become. Where someone else might see scratches, faded wood, or years of wear, she sees character, possibility, and a story worth continuing.
That thought became the inspiration for The Restorer’s Touch. Rather than painting the briefcase, I carried its rich, timeworn colors into an old wooden drawer, antique brass hardware, and a well-used paintbrush—the kinds of things that made me think of Alicia at work. I even brought out a couple of metallic watercolors that had been sitting in my palette for a long time, waiting for just the right opportunity, to give the old brass handle a subtle glow.
The finished painting isn't about a beautifully restored piece of furniture. It represents the moment before—the worn wood, the tools, and the possibility of what might come next.
For me, The Restorer’s Touch is a quiet tribute to Alicia, her creativity and craftsmanship, and her gift for seeing the beauty and potential in something old and giving it another life.
One of Alicia's beautifully restored pieces.
A Vintage Curved-Front 6-Drawer Dresser from
Blackbird & Rose Studio.
~ Where I Bring My Art To Life ~
People often see the finished painting, but rarely the space where it all begins.
This is mine.
My studio isn't large or elaborate. It is a small room that I have gradually turned into a working space for just about everything I do creatively. Every wall, shelf, drawer, basket, and available corner has been put to work. Watercolors, acrylics, pastels, brushes, palettes, papers, books, tools, and more have all found their places—and yes, there is a lot packed into this little room!
Organization is especially important when you work with as many different materials as I do. I want to be able to sit down with an idea and reach for what I need without having to hunt for it. My paints are grouped, drawers are labeled, brushes are within reach, papers have their own storage, and even the walls have become useful space.
My computer sits beside my painting area so I can work from my own photographs and references while I paint. Nearby are my palettes, water, brushes, and whatever collection of supplies the current painting happens to require. Other areas of the room hold the materials that aren't needed every day but are never very far away.
It isn't a pristine studio designed for photographs. It's a real working studio. Paint gets splattered. Brushes accumulate. A painting may be drying while another idea is already beginning. There is usually something sitting out because I'm using it—or because I know I'll be reaching for it again soon.
What I especially love about these photographs is that they happened to capture Color Falls on my table while I was experimenting with fluid acrylics. That seems fitting. My studio has grown and changed right along with me as I've explored new materials, techniques, subjects, and ways of painting.
It may be a small space, but an enormous amount of experimenting, learning, frustration, discovery—and joy—has happened here.
And somehow, there's always room for one more tube of paint.
My Art Studio
~ Letting The Paint Lead ~
My recent exploration with larger brushes and a looser approach has encouraged me to keep pushing beyond the way I normally paint. This time, I decided to take that exploration one step further—not only changing how I painted, but changing the medium itself.
With Where Color Falls, I worked with fluid acrylics on watercolor paper, allowing the paint to move, mingle, run, and create unexpected passages of color. Rather than carefully defining every tree, rock, and edge, I tried to let the shapes emerge from the color already on the paper.
There were moments when my instinct was to take control and refine everything. Instead, I kept returning to what had drawn me to this experiment in the first place: the beautiful turquoise, violet, green, gold, and blue flowing into one another.
Eventually, the waterfall and surrounding landscape began to emerge without needing every element explained.
Perhaps the biggest lesson was knowing when to stop.
Where Color Falls became another step in my continuing exploration of working more freely—using bigger brushes, trusting unexpected color, and sometimes simply letting the paint lead. August 2026
Where Color Falls
~ Stepping Outside My Comfort Zone ~
Yesterday, we celebrated the birthday of our dear friend Scott, whom we have known for many years. His wife, Candice, his sister, another friend, and I are all artistic, so before long our conversation turned to how each of us approaches creating art.
Like me, Candice enjoys working in several different mediums and creates beautiful artwork. When she works in acrylic or collage, she often takes a much more abstract approach. I have always been inspired by the way she combines colors so freely. I love seeing unexpected colors mingle in a painting, but creating that kind of freedom myself has always been challenging. Where do I start? Which colors do I choose? And how do I know where to put them?
The next day, I decided to challenge myself and find out. I figured the worst that could happen was that I would learn something—and perhaps add a little more to my artistic knowledge along the way.
During a recent trip to the San Diego Zoo, I had taken many photographs of elephants. None of the poses had struck me as something I felt compelled to paint traditionally, but suddenly I wondered whether one of them might work perfectly for this experiment.
I chose a photograph, adjusted the sketch until I was happy with the composition, and selected five colors that I knew would work beautifully together. Then I simply put paint to paper and let those colors move, mix, overlap, and become part of the elephant rather than trying to reproduce its natural coloring.
Colors of the Wild is what transpired.
It is one of those paintings that takes me a moment to absorb. But every time I look at it, I seem to see something a little different—and perhaps that is exactly what this experiment was meant to teach me. August 14, 2026
Colors of the Wild
~ A Journey Through Family History ~
Some paintings begin with a photograph. This one began with a handful of treasured family photographs tucked away in our family archives.
In the very early 1900s, my great-grandparents, Arthur and Mary Nepean, made their home near Garfield, Whitman County, Washington, after marrying in 1896. Arthur was well known for raising spirited race horses, and horses were woven into everyday life for the entire family. One photograph, in particular, captured my imagination—a young family member proudly riding one of Arthur's race horses, Tempo, during a local parade. Another photograph of the gently rolling plains surrounding Garfield completed the story.
Rather than recreate those photographs, I wanted to capture the feeling they left behind. The result is an original watercolor inspired by the quiet beauty of the Palouse landscape and the generations who called it home. The lone rider follows a winding trail through sunlit hills, symbolizing the journeys, hard work, and enduring connection to the land that shaped my family's history.
Although inspired by real people and places, Echoes of the Journey, is not intended as a historical reconstruction. Instead, it is a tribute to memory, heritage, and the timeless relationship between people, horses, and the landscapes that become part of who we are. My hope is that viewers see not only my family's story, but perhaps a reflection of their own—a reminder that every winding trail carries the footsteps, hoofprints, and memories of those who came before us. August 7, 2026
Echoes of the Journey
~ When Wildlife Says Hello ~
Well, Excuse Me! and Well, Hello There! were inspired by photographs taken only minutes apart during the same outing. As my daughter drove, wildlife seemed to appear at every turn. The emus were so close they looked directly into my camera, and shortly afterward a Canada goose walked right up to my window. I kept clicking the shutter, hoping to capture a fleeting expression, and was rewarded with two unforgettable personalities. Those spontaneous moments became the inspiration for these watercolor paintings.
Sometimes the most memorable wildlife encounters last only a few seconds. These two happened only minutes apart, yet each animal seemed to pause just long enough to say hello in its own unforgettable way. Those brief encounters became two of my favorite paintings and remain a reminder that some of nature's greatest gifts are completely unexpected.
August 2, 2026
