The floors of the National Palace Museum in Taipei are polished to a shine, and that shine holds everything that passes across it. Visitors, guards, trolleys carrying artefacts thousands of years old, all leave a trace in the reflected light, however briefly. None of it is meant to be recorded. The building was not designed as a camera, and the floor was not designed as a page. But looked at closely, in the right light, it behaves like one, a surface written on continuously and erased continuously, never quite empty and never quite legible. These eight images were made by looking down rather than up, treating the floor as an unintended archive of a place built to preserve everything except the ordinary movement of people through it.