...[in] a certain Chinese encyclopaedia entitled ‘Celestial Empire of Benevolent Knowledge’... it is written that the animals are divided into: (a) belonging to the emperor, (b) embalmed, (c) tame, (d) sucking pigs, (e) sirens, (f) fabulous, (g) stray dogs, (h) included in the present classification, (i) frenzied, (j) innumerable, (k) drawn with a very fine camelhair brush, (l) et cetera, (m) having just broken the water pitcher, (n) that from a long way off look like flies.
We make little distinction amongst the kinds of work we make. Some are spaces, some are ideas, some are drawings. Some are images, some are graphics, some are objects. Some underwrite, some thicken, some move laterally, some outwit. Some are intuitive, some come forth, some never mature, some went too far. Some enroll, some jump over, some never thought ahead, some can’t manage. Though all these strange cousins have something in common: they all gather and assemble, arrange and compose. They reach far, they couple, they find resonances, they chance at a possibility. We design as mode of cultural production. We see no real bound to the extent of what we are able to work on, opting instead for the opposite: to speculate wildly on how the toolsets of the architect can uniquely operate on and within contemporary spatial-, political-, material-, and digital-cultures.