How do we retain our belief in wonder despite the facts that have presented themselves in the modern world?

Language is only the visible and edible part of a much richer, extralinguistic reality. Our societal relations are anchored and limited by language, but the body and its intensities seem much wider. Within lies the possibility of a new language. My work ascends towards these dark and silent regions into which not a single word has yet penetrated; regions on which language has not had a desiccating and petrifying effect, into something still uncertain, virtual, and vague. What lies between inner and outer? On the rim of this immanent frame, I've skittishly traced a lemniscate intersecting an unalarmed realm that resists words yet demands them because it cannot exist otherwise.