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Blair Butterfield

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Dawn in White River Junction
No filter
My morning drive to the bus stop with my son

Dawn in White River Junction
No filter
My morning drive to the bus stop with my son

The universe within itself ever expanding and glittering

The universe within itself ever expanding and glittering

White River Junction—a nexus where rivers, railways, and highways braid together—the structure looms, a spectral presence that embodies both the impermanence and gravity of the town’s transitory essence. It feels as though an alien monolith has landed amidst our daily lives, bridging residential with industrial, yet remaining shrouded in mystery. Its quiet, institutional stillness speaks to the hidden mechanics of governance and commerce—systems that shape us from afar, functional yet detached, known only to those within their inner sanctum. It stands as both a boundary and a marker, hinting at the vast, elusive structures that influence us all while revealing nothing of their true purpose.

White River Junction—a nexus where rivers, railways, and highways braid together—the structure looms, a spectral presence that embodies both the impermanence and gravity of the town’s transitory essence. It feels as though an alien monolith has landed amidst our daily lives, bridging residential with industrial, yet remaining shrouded in mystery. Its quiet, institutional stillness speaks to the hidden mechanics of governance and commerce—systems that shape us from afar, functional yet detached, known only to those within their inner sanctum. It stands as both a boundary and a marker, hinting at the vast, elusive structures that influence us all while revealing nothing of their true purpose.

I painted most of the summer… walked and took analog photos. I’m a bit slow to post or keep up with the hungry desires of the digital. Exploring the fading spirit of White River Junction through the lens of the holographic universe. As our town and many like it across the globe transform under the forces of climate change, late stage capitalism, gentrification, modernization, and the relentless march of technology, I consider the fragility of our environment—how it’s a projection of our collective ideals, yet so easily altered or erased. This painting is a snapshot of a space and time that’s slipping away, a reminder that our surroundings are as transient as the culture we build within them.

🪦 1700 ish to summer of 2024

I painted most of the summer… walked and took analog photos. I’m a bit slow to post or keep up with the hungry desires of the digital. Exploring the fading spirit of White River Junction through the lens of the holographic universe. As our town and many like it across the globe transform under the forces of climate change, late stage capitalism, gentrification, modernization, and the relentless march of technology, I consider the fragility of our environment—how it’s a projection of our collective ideals, yet so easily altered or erased. This painting is a snapshot of a space and time that’s slipping away, a reminder that our surroundings are as transient as the culture we build within them.

🪦 1700 ish to summer of 2024

I’ve been teaching as the “Art and Life Skills” teacher at White River School (pre-k-5th) since August. While I have all the credentials of a conventional art teacher, my teaching experience is deeply rooted in Anthroposophy—from teaching biodynamic gardening at a Waldorf school to becoming a class teacher. I’ve had a lot of different teaching gigs, from intros to Photoshop to harvesting and planting yucca, and I’ve given talks on art for social engagement and community place-making. One unifying thread in all my work is that I always approach it through a lens of healing.

I’ve been bringing therapeutic techniques to this public school, and while resources are scarce, I know this work is a form of soul alchemy. Perhaps a small group of children from White River Junction will grow up choosing to create with beauty and embrace the depth of their emotions.

Young children today are exposed to traumatic imagery—if not actual trauma—at very early ages, primarily through media, yet they have almost no means of processing it. I’ve been learning a lot from Bernd Ruf on how to support children in crisis, and I’m recalling everything I learned during faculty study time in Miami, where we read The Therapeutic Eye: How Rudolf Steiner Observed Children and used it for week-long child studies. I’m listening, observing, and doing my best to nourish these young souls in a time of fast-paced uncertainty.

I also ask myself this question: am I an artist, an herbalist, a teacher, a writer, or a farmer? Can I do them all in some unified way that supports my family, too? (If you know, clue me in.) ♒️☀️, ♒️⬆️, 🦀🌕

I’ve been teaching as the “Art and Life Skills” teacher at White River School (pre-k-5th) since August. While I have all the credentials of a conventional art teacher, my teaching experience is deeply rooted in Anthroposophy—from teaching biodynamic gardening at a Waldorf school to becoming a class teacher. I’ve had a lot of different teaching gigs, from intros to Photoshop to harvesting and planting yucca, and I’ve given talks on art for social engagement and community place-making. One unifying thread in all my work is that I always approach it through a lens of healing.

I’ve been bringing therapeutic techniques to this public school, and while resources are scarce, I know this work is a form of soul alchemy. Perhaps a small group of children from White River Junction will grow up choosing to create with beauty and embrace the depth of their emotions.

Young children today are exposed to traumatic imagery—if not actual trauma—at very early ages, primarily through media, yet they have almost no means of processing it. I’ve been learning a lot from Bernd Ruf on how to support children in crisis, and I’m recalling everything I learned during faculty study time in Miami, where we read The Therapeutic Eye: How Rudolf Steiner Observed Children and used it for week-long child studies. I’m listening, observing, and doing my best to nourish these young souls in a time of fast-paced uncertainty.

I also ask myself this question: am I an artist, an herbalist, a teacher, a writer, or a farmer? Can I do them all in some unified way that supports my family, too? (If you know, clue me in.) ♒️☀️, ♒️⬆️, 🦀🌕

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