"My daughter's definition of art is something that causes a reaction, but I'm not sure I'd agree with her on that." Lizzie Cornish

If your daughter is correct, then my averse reaction to a current exhibition in Juneau means that it is art, after all. I had been labo(u)ring under the delusion that pasting together chicken wire, rusty nails and coarse felt was an exercise in elemental (as in Neanderthalic) futility.

"...why I did the sort of music I did (which back then was free improvised noise making where anything was admissible as music)..."Insane Beard

*g* Reminds me of a conversation I came upon a couple of years ago at a folk festival.

A man I knew was making hard work of playing his banjo with a young man on mandolin. Man stops. He says, What key are you playing in?

Youth: Um. Not any, really.

Man: I mean, what chords are you playing?

Youth: Um. Just kind of regular.

Grinning, I walked on.