I've always been surrounded by photography. My grandfather was a small-town professional photographer (he specialized in gauzy, hand-tinted portraits of Gladiolus Festival Queens and beaming local brides). He had a shingle hung in front of his house announcing "E.Butterfield Photography," so I come by the name honestly. My great-uncle was an photo analyst in WWII, and my father is a photographer for a suburban Chicago newspaper.
So it's no surprise how I've gotten to this point.
Recently, I have developed a deep and abiding obsession with Steampunk (imagine a Jules Vernian/Charles Dickens mash-up world that runs on steam and practical magic, where gears and pistons and brass and iron take the place of plastics and microprocessors, and where Queen Victoria serenely rules a progressive empire of advanced thermal and aetherial technology). I take a strange delight in dressing up models in pseudo-Victorian clothing and equipping them with props and weapons and tools and backstories from an evolving alternate universe, where steam powers everything from trains to planes to computers; where aether and alchemy and plasmas and a sort of dark magical pseudo-science are commonplace. I enjoy finding an element of darkness and creepiness and fantastical fun in this steamy anachronistic world I'm making. I even process the photos to look old and battered and time-worn, as if this world is being built backwards, reconstructed from its photographic relics. Basically, this lets me combine two of the things I really love most: words and pictures. Add in a unique new "beefcake" approach to featuring attractive male models scantily-clad in steampunk gear, and now we're three for three.
I've also started collecting antique tools (mostly rusty ones) and vintage spectacles to augment a growing array of fantastical eyewear.
In real life, I'm a recovering attorney and Director of a technical nonprofit association. I live with my husband in Long Beach, California, and a cat who sometimes supervises photo sessions. My husband is the one who gave me my first Nikon, and who patiently encourages all of this, so it's mostly his fault.