Laurie Pace - Fine Artist

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It really happens....Every once in a while, a painting finds its way back into my life.

© Laurie Pace Graphics One Design 2026 Wedding Day Blooms Oil on Canvas SOLD by Laurie Pace Every once in a while, a painting finds its way back into my life. A few days ago, for some reason, I checked the messages on my business Facebook page—something I rarely do anymore. There was a message from a man in New York: “Hello. I have recently come across a painting I believe you did.” It was Wedding Day, an acrylic painting from my colorful Pop Art period around 2005–2006. But where he found it is the real story. He is a maintenance director at a senior living building. A storage room that hadn't been gone through in who-knows-how-long was being cleaned out. The direction was simple: if it wasn't needed, throw it away. Inside a closet, he found my painting. He could have thrown it away. Instead, he told me: “I found it and knew there was more to it.” I love those words. He didn't contact me to ask wha...

Part of childhood are the curbs and sidewalks in life... we jumped them with a bike, we danced on them, and we used to chalk them up in front of our houses....

© Laurie Pace Graphics One Design 2026 Curb Sitters Oil on Canvas SOLD by Laurie Pace CURB SITTERS | Where Childhood Happened Growing up in Lake Highlands in Dallas during the late 1950s and 60s, a curb wasn't simply the edge of the street. We balanced on it, attempted ballet, jumped it with bicycles, drew on it with chalk—and sat there with our friends. The driveway was part of childhood, too. Four Square, jump rope, cheerleading, gymnastics and our singing game, “Strut Miss Suzy.” We didn't need music playing. We were the music. Years later, Terry and I returned to Lake Highlands, and I watched another generation of children discover those same curbs and driveways. Neighborhoods change. Childhood changes. But every now and then I still see a child balancing on a curb or several children sitting together, doing apparently nothing at all. Maybe that is why I painted Curb Sitters. Because sometimes the moments w...

Children ran from house to house. Bikes appeared in driveways. Friends gathered without appointments or schedules.

© Laurie Pace Graphics One Design 2026 BLOCK PARTY Oil on Canvas SOLD by Laurie Pace There was a time when the neighborhood really was part of childhood. Our street in Dallas was only one long block, built on a tall hill. We were the third house up from the bottom, just a block from the elementary school. Families filled the neighborhood, and so did children. Our home was unusual—a contemporary home built in a style similar to Frank Lloyd Wright, filled with glass, garden spaces and color. But outside was where another kind of life happened. Children ran from house to house. Bikes appeared in driveways. Friends gathered without appointments or schedules. And when Dallas actually gave us enough snow? That hill became ours. Can you imagine the sleds coming down it? Years later, at one of our neighborhood block parties, I ran around with my camera photographing the children. One of those moments eventually became ...

What began as ten minutes cleaning one pantry shelf became a reminder that sometimes the things we think we've lost are simply waiting behind everything we've accumulated around them.

© Laurie Pace Graphics One Design 2026 Waiting There for You Oil on Canvas SOLD by Laurie Pace Ten Minutes in the Pantry I told myself I would spend ten minutes cleaning out one pantry shelf. Twenty-five minutes later, I had discovered two bags of organic flour that expired in 2024, dehydrated blueberries I don't remember ordering, four containers of baking soda, crackers missing since last March, and an unopened bottle of lemon juice—also from 2024. Out they went. There wasn't a single expired can. It was simply one overcrowded shelf where little things had disappeared behind other little things. When I finished, I stood there thinking: There. I can see what I have again. Then the morning made its point twice. I found this screenshot of an older painting in one of my computer folders. I know I painted it, probably sometime between 2018 and 2022. I cannot remember its title, and I haven't yet found the original...

Five rather substantial buffalo staring back at him exploding in colors....Rocky Mountain Buffalo

© Laurie Pace Graphics One Design 2026 Rocky Buffalo Herd Oil on Canvas SOLD by Laurie Pace “It may not sell.” Those were Steve's words when I shipped this painting to Mirada Fine Art Gallery and he opened the package. There they were. Five rather substantial buffalo staring back at him. They weren't peacefully grazing in the distance. They weren't standing majestically beneath a western sunset. They were coming straight at him. I had begun the painting knowing where the buffalo would be. The mountains created strong V shapes behind them, directing your eye toward the herd. What I didn't know was how much color those buffalo would eventually acquire. The buffalo weren't born crazy-colored. They became that way. Apparently, quite enthusiastically. By the time Steve opened the package, those five buffalo had become exactly who they intended to be. His assessment? “It may not sell.” Well. I had already painted them. I had already...

I never ask for the deep water or anything unexpected. Yet those times will teach us how very much we need the Lord —and how much we need one another.

© Laurie Pace Graphics One Design 2026 Indian Paint Oil on Canvas SOLD by Laurie Pace THROUGH “Consider it all joy, my brethren, when you encounter various trials…” — James 1:2 None of us asks for the difficult days. We don't ask for the deep water or the unexpected changes. Yet those times often teach us how much we need God—and how much we need one another. Sometimes we lean on Him. Sometimes He places someone beside us to help us keep moving. And sometimes we are given the opportunity to be that person for someone else. Isaiah 43:2 tells us: “When you pass through the waters, I will be with you…” There is one word in that verse I keep returning to. Through. We are going somewhere. We are not promised that today will remain as it is forever. So if today is difficult, lift your eyes. Keep moving. Keep trusting. Let someone walk beside you. You are not alone. God is there. And there is hope ahead....