Laurie Pace - Fine Artist

Winter Light in North Texas: Painting Through Ice and Cold Isaiah 55:10 – “As the rain and the snow come down from heaven… so is my word that goes out from my mouth.” Snow serves as a metaphor for God’s Word. This verse likens snow’s nourishing effects on the earth to the way God’s Word brings growth and life, fulfilling His purposes. © Laurie Pace        Graphics One Design 2026 Winter Beauty   by Laurie Pace   While the weather outside might look deceptively beautiful, it is anything but gentle. At two degrees in North Texas, sleet has fallen thick and heavy, transforming patios and yards into massive skating rinks. Overnight, despite honeycomb shades and blackout curtains, the reflected light from the ice made it seem as though the outdoors was illuminated all night long. When I rose around four a.m. to check the faucets, I couldn’t resist peeking outside—four to five inches of sleet covered everything, brilliant and unforgiving. Inside, the stu...

Finding Joy Under the Weather: A North Texas Ice and Snow Stay-At-Home — A New Year’s Perspective © Laurie Pace        Graphics One Design 2026 Golden Pond Studio by Laurie Pace   Proverbs 31:21 – “When it snows, she has no fear for her household; for all of them are clothed in scarlet.” North Texas—specifically the DFW area—is very much under the weather right now. Temperatures have dropped into the twenties and are still falling, sleet has been steadily coming down, and more is expected through Sunday, followed by several hours of snow before this system finally moves on. We won’t see a real thaw until Tuesday. Still, my husband and I take weather like this in stride. We’re well stocked with food, keeping an eye on the power situation, and trusting that any outages—if they come—will be brief. With no generator, we’ve joked that this may turn into a rather impressive feast over the next day or two. Yesterday my husband cooked a wonderful roast with pot...

Not Overthinking Life  © Laurie Pace        Graphics One Design 2026 Cinnamon Rolls Recipe from the 1800's A Thoughtful Perspective by Laurie Pace   I was reminded this week how easily we overthink even the simplest things — and in this case, it came from my kitchen. I was making a small loaf of bread using a quick recipe when I realized halfway through that the yeast I used was six months expired. Instead of panicking, I simply started a second loaf with yeast that was still within date. And that’s when my mind started racing. What did I do differently? Did I forget something? Should I have done it another way? Here’s the funny part — both loaves turned out great. Yet the next day, I made the same recipe again and caught myself doing it all over. Hovering. Questioning. Overthinking every step. Nothing was wrong with the bread. The worry was entirely in my head. Life can be like that too. We replay conversations, decisions, and moments long after t...

The Bellows Between the Notes Around this same period in my life at this beautiful modern home, I borrowed an accordion from my cousin Skate — something I had nearly forgotten until now.   He gave me a quick demonstration and left it with me.  © Laurie Pace        Graphics One Design 2026 Skate's Accordian Chew, Pat, Rub? An accordion asks you to do everything at once. It’s like chewing gum, patting your head, and rubbing your stomach — all while trying to make music. Its sound is thicker, heartier, carried by air and pressure through bellows that quite literally breathe life into the notes. I was surprised to learn the accordion wasn’t really developed until the 1920s — just over a hundred years ago. Inside, metal reeds create sound as air moves through them, controlled entirely by the musician’s coordination and touch. It takes a different kind of listening — not just to sound, but to breath and balance. I learned quickly how humb...

The Quiet Voice of the Violin.  I am not as knowledgeable about the voice of a violin as I am with piano or guitar. But perhaps that is why this painting stayed with me so deeply. © Laurie Pace        Graphics One Design 2026 Violin Player Oil on Canvas  SOLD   by Laurie Pace   Movement The flowing sleeves of this young musician caught my attention first — the way fabric moves with the arm, rising and falling as the bow travels across the strings. That gentle wave feels like the music itself, lifting and settling, shaped by the smallest change in pressure or speed. This is an oil painting, a commissioned piece, and I loved every hour spent on it — about four days of complete focus. Painting her felt like listening without trying to name the notes. Just watching. Just following the motion. The sound of a violin can lure us — sometimes to dance, sometimes simply to stay very still and listen. It invites you to notice variance: the diff...

Playing for Papa I had just purchased a 1943 Baby Grand piano when we moved into a home built in the 1950s obviously by a student of Frank Lloyd Wright. I cried the first time I saw it. © Laurie Pace        Graphics One Design 2026 Playing for Papa   SOLD   by Laurie Pace   The house was shaped like a wide, open “U,” turned gently on its side, embracing light and space. The front held a long, curving stone wall with only small windows at each end, giving little hint of what waited inside. A circular drive led you in. The original circular fireplace and built-in seating had been removed before we arrived — a loss that still makes me sigh — but the heart of the home remained. Half walls opened into the music room, where the Baby Grand lived. Ten-foot sliding glass doors looked into the covered inner courtyard, complete with fountains and soaring walls of windows rising nearly twenty feet into the air. Light moved through the...

Music Was My First Language Music was my first language — long before art ever took the lead. As a teenager and into my twenties, I traveled with my guitar always close, tucked safely in its case and resting in my lap on buses and airplanes. It went everywhere with me. It wasn’t a question — it was simply part of who I was. © Laurie Pace        Graphics One Design 2026 One of my favorite memories still makes me smile. Coming home from church camp in New Braunfels, Texas, guitar in hand. If the bus wasn’t crowded, the music would start. Someone would sing, someone else would hum, and before long the whole space would feel lighter. Music has a way of doing that — it gathers people without asking permission. Over the years, I’ve played piano, guitar, organ, harp… and yes, even a harmonica I taught myself during Covid. I’ve taught children music and art, and while I’m not teaching right now, the music has never stopped living inside me. Classical, Ir...