Laurie Pace - Fine Artist

© Laurie Pace        Graphics One Design 2026 At The Ocean Oil on Canvas  SOLD   by Laurie Pace   The Tomorrows... are you with me?  There is something about standing at the edge of the ocean that changes our sense of time. The water seems endless. The horizon stretches farther than our eyes can follow. And there she stands—small against all that vastness, looking outward. When I look at this painting now, I think about the tomorrows. When we are young, there seem to be so many of them.  We grow each day in our individual ways, reaching toward futures we cannot yet imagine. And perhaps that shouldn't stop simply because we grow older. Our tomorrows change. Our plans change. We change. Yet God is still at work in us. God does not change.  I don't have to see beyond the horizon to know there is something there. Perhaps our lives are much the same. We see today.  God sees beyond the horizon. Elle Read the ...

© Laurie Pace        Graphics One Design 2026 Falling for You Oil on Canvas  SOLD   by Laurie Pace   What makes us fall in love with something when we can't quite explain why? A person. A place. A piece of music. Even a painting. When I look again at Falling for You, I remember what I loved about painting her. She isn't completely revealed.  One eye seems to find you while the other slips behind her hair and all that fractured color. Her hair becomes streaks and slabs of paint. Her clothing nearly disappears into the marks around her. And yet, we find her. Face enough to find her. Paint enough not to trap her. Maybe life is like that too. We spend so much time wanting to understand everything before we're willing to trust. We want the whole picture before taking the next step. But faith doesn't give us the entire picture. “For we walk by faith, not by sight.” — 2 Corinthians 5:7 Perhaps we don't always need to see eve...

© Laurie Pace        Graphics One Design 2026 Don't Mess with Me Oil on Canvas  SOLD   by Laurie Pace   Sometimes a painting knows exactly where it belongs. The woman who purchased Don't Mess with Me knew precisely where this horse was going. Behind her business desk. Anyone sitting across from her would have that eye, those ears and that wild mane looking directly back at them. And a nyone sitting across from her—or meeting with her on a screen during those early COVID days—had that "LOOK" staring at them...daring them you might say. No little sign saying Please understand who is in charge here was necessary. 😂 Looking at this painting again makes me think about confidence. Real strength doesn't always need to announce itself. As I've grown older, I've learned that courage isn't about being certain of ourselves. Our confidence comes from knowing we don't face what lies ahead alone. “Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous.....

© Laurie Pace        Graphics One Design 2026 Walking Down the Avenue Oil on Canvas  SOLD   by Laurie Pace  copyright 2015 What if we aren't meant to know who will walk the entire road beside us for our lifetime? Some people stay for decades in our lives. Others walk with us only briefly. Some move ahead, while others take a different turn. Some fall behind. Looking again at Walking Down the Avenue, I am reminded that God sees considerably farther down the road than we ever can. We don't always know why paths meet, why they separate, or what waits around the next turn. Perhaps we aren't meant to know. We simply keep walking—not because we can see the destination, but because we know Who is leading us. Read the complete Threads of Grace story at EllePace.com. “Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways submit to Him, and He will make your paths straight.” — Proverbs 3:5–6   Blogger search...

© Laurie Pace        Graphics One Design 2026 The Quiet Place Oil on Canvas    by Laurie Pace   I painted this little boy sometime around 2005. Nearly twenty-one years later, I see something in him I may not have completely understood when I painted him. He is alone, but he isn't lonely. He is simply still—sitting somewhere between the dark and the light, in that quiet place where the noise stops for a little while. We all have these moments. We aren't solving anything or planning what comes next. Sometimes we aren't even thinking. We simply rest. The darkness hasn't disappeared. Life is still waiting for us. But for this one moment, we are safe in the silence. Perhaps we understood this better as children. Sometimes peace isn't somewhere we have to go. Sometimes it is simply sitting still long enough to discover that we are already there. Read the full Threads of Grace story: The Quiet Place — Laurie Pace | Elle Pace Labels: ...

© Laurie Pace        Graphics One Design 2026 Falling into Winter Oil on Canvas  SOLD   by Laurie Pace              Falling into Winter — A Season for Everything It is the last week of September, and here in North Texas, summer seems unwilling to leave. We had a splash of rain, but nothing measurable at our house. Hubby has kept the trees watered, so they are still holding their leaves. Perhaps sometime between late October and December, Texas will remember it is supposed to be fall. I am ready. I came across an older painting today called Falling into Winter. I wasn't looking for a lesson. I was simply looking for a painting filled with fall color.    But then I began looking at the horses. They share the same landscape, surrounded by reds, golds, greens, blues and violets, yet each seems to experience it differently.   One bows its head. Another turns. Another lifts its ...

© Laurie Pace        Graphics One Design 2026 Immersed   24 x 24 Available. Full Photo on my Website blog. Click the painting to view it.  Immersed — Layer Upon Layer “Adam named his wife Eve, because she would become the mother of all the living.” — Genesis 3:20 I thought she was finished. Then I took one more chance. I didn't want to repaint the garden of color that had grown around her, so I rolled a transparent veil across portions of the canvas with a brayer. What was underneath remained. Some marks were easy to see. Others became quieter. Some nearly disappeared. And suddenly I realized how much that resembles us. We are layer upon layer, generation upon generation. The woman who emerged on my canvas no longer looked exactly like the woman in the old photograph where I began. Her face changed. Her hair changed. Everything around her changed. But she held her gaze. She marked that canvas, and the journey came forward. I began t...