TLDF Quarterly Art Journal
TLDF Volume 3
At TLDF we are keeping our gaze firmly planted in the future. In the distant horizon everything is still possible. That future, full of possibility, is where friends wait for the day when we will be back together doing what we do best: making art and supporting each other.
Meanwhile, we can remotely gather inspiration from the distinctive work of Sara Elliott, an artist who creates delightful paintings that evoke sunlight filtering through the branches of a tree. We can mitigate the anxiety by taking part in fun Zoomies that help us connect and endure.
It is a new normal, one hard to get used to, but conflict and uncertainty are close siblings of opportunity. Perhaps, it is time for a new paradigm, and we can do better than what we had before. One thing is certain: art has a big role to play in the shaping of this new, better, kinder world.
TLDF Volume 2
TLDF goes outside for the first time after many weeks in isolation. We visit gardens, both famous and anonymous, and rejoice in their beauty and safety. This is the issue for gardeners and those inspired by the natural world. The breathtaking photos by Kelli Prescott are featured in the journal. We also move seamlessly between the past and the present and remember places that left their mark on the artwork we make today.
TLDF Volume 1
This first volume is a calling card of sorts for The Little Dream Factory. Read about our mission as a small art studio situated in the heart of Vermont. In every volume of TLDF you will find news about workshops, exhibits and the sporadic call for artists. Let us introduce you to our artistic roots, the places where everything started for Madcollage, and delight in the work of our featured artists. James Vath is our first artist in the roster of many talented individuals. We strive to show a diverse and exciting group of artists from all over the world in each volume. TLDF Journal is published quarterly and it is a fantastic and affordable publication to collect.
The Little Dream Factory in Williston, Vermont
I once walked down the precarious shoulder of Williston Road all the way from the village to Taft Corners. It was a sunny day. I was bored, I guess. Perhaps I was just momentarily confused because…well, SUN IN VERMONT! In any case, something compelled me to go out. Sure I was risking getting hit by a car that morning, but there I was on my road to nowhere. David Byrne would have been proud (despite my lack of wheels).
The weather was uncharacteristically warm for April. Busy moms and sleepy kids were riding vans to school. Someone tossed a crumpled can of Sprite right in front of me, which rolled a few feet and joined the takeout containers, cigarette butts and mini bar bottles by the side of the road. “This is how cyclists feel every day they ride”, I thought.
I was getting very uncomfortable. Cars were going by very fast. Too close to me as well. There were a couple of brief moments when I saw my life flash in front of my eyes. It wasn’t a pretty picture…and I had seen it before anyway.
I kept walking hugging the edge of the field, until I got over the first hill. Things calmed down a bit after that. I saw clouds and horses. Many evil wild parsnips were swaying in the wind, pretending to be innocent and delicate. I saw the firehouse and the stream with saplings planted along the banks. I saw a construction crew operate a crane that was holding a bundle of PVC pipes up in the air. People waiting at the bus stop. Kids crossing the intersection on their way to school. Opposite the skeleton building in the construction site, folks pumped gas into their Subarus at the local petrol station. There was a cat sunning itself by the propane gas containers.
Among all the things I saw that morning there was a glaring omission painfully noticeable to me: not a trace of art was to be found. Not a school, gallery, museum, academy, statue, fountain, mural...absolutely nothing remotely related to art. Williston is bereft of any serious relationship with the art world.
I walked back with a pesky sense of responsibility and the determination to make a change. Any change, no matter how small. I refuse to accept this. I know for a fact there are many wonderful creative people who live in Williston. Why is this topic so far off the radar?
I started with the obvious: inviting other creative folks to my studio to share some time and supplies. It is a modest contribution, I know, but I am attempting to create a small ripple of momentum. They say that a single tiny pebble can generate, given time, the most magnificent of waves. That is the core philosophy behind the creation of The Little Dream Factory.
In the studio, we come together to cut and paint, glue and draw. Most importantly, we support one another and work side by side on small projects and fun activities. We all contribute a small amount of money to a shared pool of supplies, and we meet once or twice a month for some laughs and some creative time. We drink tea or coffee and talk while our hands are busy and our brains relaxed and happy.
While we are at the beginning of this journey, we remain focused on growing a community of creative individuals in Williston and surrounding areas. We don’t know what the future holds but, for the moment, we are enjoying this little oasis among the sumac. I hope you can visit my studio someday and become a member of the Little Dream Factory. Everyone is welcome!