「1LDK」是一組生活在日本的密碼：一房、一廳、一飯廳與廚房的公寓。這本書囊括了藝術家和妻於東京長居的最後幾個月裡，在小房間中日日發生的場景⋯⋯
離開之前從來沒有想過要離開。
之所以立起腳架跟相機是因為在日本畢業之後決定搬回台灣。在畢業前一年剛好是311大地震，那本來就是個開學的季節，卻有許多人在那時候就決定要離開東京，我可能也是其中一個。尤其對外國人來說，我們沒有久留的理由，從那時候開始才真的有點了解家鄉這個概念。
就這樣訂了機票船運公司，開始收拾在日本五年的生活回憶、打包回台灣的行李。在這準備離開的半年之間，想著要為這個過程留下紀錄，在打掃時每個看似平常的房間角落裡都有許多我們在這裡的證據，我們稱之為灰塵。然後為這些灰塵按下連續地快門。可能五張，可能十張，連續地畫面總共約一千多張，記錄著從堆著滿滿雜物到空無一物房間的照片。
就這樣回台灣過了十二年。慢慢累積發表這些照片的力氣。找到堆疊在硬碟裡的那些照片，按照時間順序排列後，我重新看了一遍，照片確實起了記錄的作用，每個連續片段都的確存在過，讓我想起了照片中的過去。
可是那些沒有在連續畫面中的時間就這樣消失了。此時我感受到攝影的悲哀，無論如何拍攝，最後我們還是要去腦補那些沒有被拍到的回憶。
──鄭弘敬，《1LDK》
“1LDK” is a set of keys to life in Japan: a one-bedroom, one-living room, one-dining room and kitchen apartment. The book encompasses those last few months of the artist and his wife’s time living in Tokyo, and the everyday scenes that took place in their small abode…..
Before I left, I never thought of leaving.
The reason why I set up a tripod and a camera was because I decided to move back to Taiwan after my graduation in Japan. The year before my graduation also happened to be the 2011 Tohoku earthquake. During what was an otherwise regular start-of-school season, many people decided to leave Tokyo !V and I just happened to be one of them. For foreign nationals, there was no reason to stay, and it was around then that I began to understand the concept of a hometown.
And just like that, I booked my flight and a shipping company, putting away five years!& worth of memories of life in Japan and packing luggage bound for Taiwan. In this six-month period as I prepared to leave, I wanted to leave a record of the process. As I cleaned every seemingly ordinary corner of the room, I found evidence of our time here in the form of what we call dust. And so, for this dust, I kept clicking the shutter !V from perhaps five to ten to eventually a total of one thousand or so photographs, of a room that went from clutter to nothing.
And just like that, it’s been 12 years since I came back to Taiwan. I slowly mustered the drive to release these photos. After finding them stockpiled in harddrives and rearranging them by chronological order, I looked at them once more; these photographs do indeed serve as a record, and these fragments of time did exist, reminding me of the past that is in each photo.
But the time that is not present in this sequence of images has since disappeared. It was at this moment that I felt the sadness of photography; in the end, no matter how we photograph, we still have to make up for the memories that were not captured by ourselves.
── teikoukei, 1LDK
2024
