Rome (I/IV) - Permanence through Record

The Arch of Titus is a memory carved in relief. On its inner walls, Roman soldiers carry the spoils of Jerusalem: the menorah, the trumpets, the sacred vessels. It was once a declaration of power, a monument to victory.

The empire it celebrates is gone. The triumph it immortalized matters to almost no one passing beneath its shadow. And yet the arch still stands.

Photo taken by yours truly :)

That is the paradox of Rome. Its armies, emperors, and borders have long since faded, but the words -- whether in marble, mosaic, or manuscript -- endure. The permanence really stems from the decision to record the victory, not the act of winning itself.

It's tempting to believe that what we build will last because it's mighty. The Arch of Titus teaches us that the only victories that last are the ones preserved in language, symbol, or story. Without the inscription, the victory might not be remembered. With it, the moment survives centuries.

We will not all carve arches. Still, every one of us can leave something behind that will outlive us, whether it be a thought, a sentence, or a scribble. Power is fleeting, but the record is eternal.