As part of my ongoing exploration of the daily information I collect, I draw an analogy between my information system and the banking system. I think of my memory as a “memory bank,” where I deposit information regularly. When I need it—or even when I sense that I have forgotten it—I withdraw that information, much like making a transaction.

In a space dedicated to my information collection, I invite the audience to participate in this banking system of memory. Upon entering the space, something like my memory vault, a performer loans them a “check” drawn from my collection of daily processes. By the end of their visit, the audience returns the check and receives a receipt documenting their encounter. Through this exchange, my memory—or rather, the information I’ve gathered—is momentarily housed within their mind before returning to me. In this process, the information is shared, duplicated, and transformed. What does it mean to place information in an ephemeral, shared space before it is firmly archived in the memory bank? How does this temporary interruption—this transient act of “holding”—affect the nature of the information itself?