THE WORKING ARCHIVE

The kitchen. Specifically my grandmother's, mostly unchanged since the nineties, home of the smell that an entire scent project keeps failing to bottle and the braised pork that REC-002 can only approximate.

Also: the no-name beef noodle shop with six stools that launched a three-attempt cooking campaign, the night markets of the 2007 summer files, and the hardware street where a shop owner interviewed me before agreeing to sell me a knife.

Taipei is the archive's department of origins. A disproportionate share of the files marked MEMORY trace back to within three blocks of that kitchen.