Thekla is a city that is never going to be finished. It wants to become but never does.
It must be always building it self to prevent its ruin. So here lies Thekla's ruin.
It is known that it's destruction will happen but still the belief stays and men keep on constructing it.
Italo Calvino: "The invisible Cities".
The cites and the heaven - Those who arrive at Thekla can see little of the city, beyond the plank fences, the sackcloth screens, the scaffoldings, the metal armatures, the wooden catwlks hanging from ropes or supported by sawhorses, the ladders, the trestles. If you ask "Why is Thekla's construction taking such a long time?" the inhabitants continue hoisting sacks, lowering leaded strings, moving long bruses up and down, as they answer "So that it's destruction cannot begin." And if asked whether they fear that, once the scaffoldings are removed, the city may begin to crumble and fall to pieces, they add hastily, in a whisper, "Not only the city." ¨If, dissatisfied with the answers, someone puts his eye to a crack in a fence, he sees cranes pulling up other cranes, scaffoldings that embrace other scaffoldings, beams that prop up other beams. "What meaning does your construction have?" he asks. "What is the aim of a city under construction unless it is a city? Where is the plan you are following, the blueprint?" "We will show it to you as soon as the working day is over; we cannot interrupt our work now," they answer. ¨Work stops at sunset. Darkness falls over the building site. The sky is filled with stars. "There is the blueprint," they say.