They do not escape, the two thin butterflies barely resting on the sides of my face, they whisper words that plunge me into the whirling a whirlwind of the imagination: born from a painting, mysterious and wonderful that was defined by Luca Giordano as “the theology of art”. They emerged from a life of centuries, they materialize, the smooth and sinuous golden wings shine embellished by a rose navette and those in rhodium with sapphire navette.