What about painting?
It came to me as a mean to say these “important things” you don’t speak about. These things can’t be said clearly. They are literally unspeakable. They become blurry and they eventually vanish when analysed.
They can be expressed only by allusion.
Zénon! Cruel Zénon! Zénon of Êlée!
You pierced me of this winged arrow
That vibrates, flies, and that does not fly!
The sound gives birth me and the arrow kills me!
Ah! the sun. . . Which shadow of tortoise
For the soul, motionless Achille to big step!
No, no! . . . Standing! In the successive era!
Break, my body, this pensive form!
Drink, my breast, the wind birth!
A freshness, exhaled sea,
returns Me my soul. . . O power salty!
Run to the wave some to reflect living.
(The Graveyard by the Sea, translated by Cecil Day Lewis)