Some say The Eternal City is Rome. The notion draws from The Aeneid, by Virgil who, between 19 and 29BC, wandered the ancient world and spread his tale of the glorious origins of the “imperium sine fine” [an empire without end]. The tapestry of Virgil’s story combines a weft of myth and a warp of fantasy. What has been lost to the ages, is the time Virgil spent in an remote village isolated by strange mists where he met the muse that fired and inspired his imagination.
Chi Tau, the eternal city. Always just over the horizon, beyond the veil of mists, ever waiting, always summer, eternally young, vivacious, and lusty. The city has always been, ever shall be. It is what it needs to be, when it needs to be, changing with the times and environs. Sometimes here, sometimes then. It is always where you least expect it.
As this new decade dawns, so too does a new incarnation of Chi Tau rise. From the bare earth, it’s bones are drawn, a skeleton pulled up from the clay as a frame for it’s body.
Each incarnation changes, but echoes of the past reverberate through the body like a sense of de ja vu, a step out of phase, a familiar face in another canvas.
To paraphrase the Mad Arab, Abdul Alhazred,
“That is not dead which can eternal lie
and with stranage aeons even Chi Tau may arise.”
