Laurie Pace - Fine Artist

© Laurie Pace        Graphics One Design 2026 "A Friend is a friend forever" Song by  Michael W. Smith When I Look Back Across My Life, You Are Still There Some friendships begin before we have any idea who we're going to become. Mine began at Lake Highlands Junior High School more than sixty years ago. We knew each other's families, houses, dreams—and occasionally far too much about each other's childhood adventures. My best girlfriend was Janet—J.J. to me. She loved the buttery crackers my mother kept at our house, and together we invented something we called Wagonning. We had baby brothers about eleven or twelve years younger than we were. When we decided they were sufficiently sturdy, we put them in red wagons, climbed in behind them and raced down one of our steep Lake Highlands hills. The objective? Try not to kill our baby brothers. They loved it. Our mothers never knew. Sixty-three years later, I could probably say one word to J.J.—Wagonning—and she ...

© Laurie Pace        Graphics One Design 2026 Red Shoed Pony Dancing Till Dawn Oil on Canvas  SOLD   by Laurie Pace   Sometimes you don't know you need red shoes until you start dancing... Life continually asks us to step up—to a challenge, a change, a new season, or simply something we aren't sure we can do. Right now, my challenge is waiting at my easel. That reminded me of Red Shoed Pony — Dancing Till Dawn, a painting that didn't begin with a horse at all. It began with colors mixing into greens, golds and murky browns. I began carving through the paint until a horse appeared. She wasn't working, so I kept going. Then I noticed the red near her feet. She needed red shoes. And once she had red shoes, I knew she needed someone watching her dance. That's how the second horse arrived. Life has seasons for growing, serving, grieving, waiting—and sometimes simply moving forward. When you feel tired or discouraged, perhaps re...

There are seven in the full painting... see it on my website blog.  Link below.   © Laurie Pace        Graphics One Design 2026 On the Lam Oil on Canvas  SOLD   by Laurie Pace   ON THE LAM — And Apparently I’ve Been There Too For ten years I had the title of this painting spelled wrong. On the Lamb. There are no lambs in this painting. 😂 What I meant was On the Lam—running away, escaping, avoiding something. That little discovery sent my brain racing almost as quickly as the horses in the painting. For the past several years, I have struggled with something I never expected: losing confidence behind the wheel. After losing a car I loved, I went through several vehicles that simply never felt right. Eventually I found myself driving less and less. Seven weeks ago, that finally changed. I found a vehicle that feels right to me. This morning I drove Hubby and me home from Costco while my passenger played chess on h...

© Laurie Pace        Graphics One Design 2026 I Can Never Get Enough Oil on Canvas  SOLD   by Laurie Pace   Have you ever wondered how many thoughts can run through your head at the same time? This morning after church, Hubby went back for a forgotten coffee cup. What I expected to be five minutes became nearly fifteen, so I stood beneath a tree and watched families pass by. I noticed children, exchanged greetings and discovered that apparently boots and dresses are VERY popular with teenage girls this year. Who knew? 😂 It reminded me how easily we become distracted. People. Food. Dogs. Traffic. Painting. Something someone said. Something we should have stopped thinking about three days ago. Then I looked at this horse from 2016. He has exactly one thing on his mind: whatever is in that feeder. Perhaps mindfulness isn't about stopping every wandering thought. Maybe it is learning to notice where our thoughts are taking us...

© Laurie Pace        Graphics One Design 2026 Face With In- the beginnings Oil on Canvas  SOLD   by Laurie Pace   At 4:15 this morning, a long beep woke me. Terry was already in the kitchen making coffee and wanted me to see the red moon. I made myself a cup of hot tea, crawled back into bed, and began going through old photographs on my computer. Instead of simply cleaning out files, I found myself walking backward through years of paintings. And something happened. I began seeing my work differently. I saw strength I had forgotten was there. Color. Courage. Paintings where I trusted myself enough to follow an idea without knowing exactly where it would lead. Then I came across Face Within. I loved the beginning of this painting. I still do. The face had something—the color, the light, those unexpected blues and greens moving through her skin. But I couldn't figure out what the rest of the painting needed. So instead of w...

© 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...

© 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...