Objective (Alternatively, "why the hell do I do this?")

It seems natural to use the first post on this blog to lay out what I'm looking to accomplish through my work.

I'm a miner by trade. The last half decade of my life has been dedicated to learning the science and art (mainly art) of drilling, blasting, and mucking. Making big rocks into small rocks. Boring holes in the ground. Mining. It's dirty, dangerous, and unglamorous work, but that doesn't make me love it any less.

Most folks have no idea what goes into mining, or, in some cases, that the industry still exists at all. "We still do that?" Or, their mental image of the industry is stuck in the 1920s, complete with mules, mine rail, child labor, and hand steel. I'd like to change that.

Worse, once operations have ended at a mine, there seems to be a race, inspired by overzealous government agencies, to erase all trace or memory of a place that men often quite literally gave their lives for. They call it reclamation, I call it willful destruction of our industrial heritage. I'd like to change that, too.

That's a damn tall order, so I'll settle for photographing and videoing as many historic mine sites as I can, especially those at risk due to reclamation, demolition, redevelopment, or modern mining activity. If destruction of the site cannot be stopped, the mine can at least be documented to ensure that some record of its existence survives. In more cases than I would like, my work represents the only publicly-accessible visual documentation of a given mine.

 I've been doing this for years, across dozens of mines across Appalachia and the Southwest. It's not easy - it requires locating mines, whether on private land, public land, or that grey area that forms when a company no longer exists and even property tax records turn up dead ends. It requires arranging access, working with landowners and mining companies, and finding time to get out there while often working 70-hour weeks. That part is challenging; once I get to a mine, it can often be downright dangerous. Bad ground conditions, unstable structures, bad air, toxic mold, mountain lions, and cross-border smuggling - it's just part of the game. I take precautions, but the risk is never zero. I'd like to think it's worth it.