Performed as a final project for an Introduction to Philosophy two-week summer course at Portland State University, August 2022

What is art?
I've been thinking about this question for a long time,
the intricacies and specificities,
the outliers and exemptions.
The lines have become blurred beyond recognition.
I drew a line on this whiteboard.
I could explain it,
say it is a metaphor for time's fixation in our minds and how regret has no point,
but I won't always be here to explain it.
Art originates from context.
If we say it is, it is.
I was sitting down the other day, writing a poem on my computer.
There was an empty cup of cider from Starbucks next to me, lip gloss on the rim.
The cider had spilled a little, leaving specks of liquid on the cap.
The cup was on top of a Great Gatsby copy I annotated for English.
Is this art?
Do the consumerist qualities of the Starbucks cup juxtapose
the overconsumption of the wealthy in The Great Gatsby, and in doing so,
have an opinion on capitalism in America?
I gave it meaning.
I thought it was, and now it is.
Now I say anything can be art.
I think, therefore, it is.
The context defines what the piece cannot.
What isn't art, then?
What are the characteristics of not-art?
Language is art.
The order in which I am saying these words pleases you,
I've created a new sentence you've never heard before, and you want more.
I can't hold language.
I can't take it out of my pocket, place it on the wall, and admire its qualities.
How the artist stroked their paintbrush along the canvas,
I've strung together sounds to create the beauty of a sentence, and you're mesmerized.
The artist creates meaning through physicality,
The thought to the hand to the thought.
Then someone comes across the thought
and decides it isn't what it was meant to be.
Your artistic endeavors mean nothing to me;
how can you say that this is art?
The subjectivity is stressed when we tend to express this idea.
If they don't get it, it wasn't for them.
I drew a line on this whiteboard.
I say it's a metaphor for a piece of paper that can become anything you want it to,
you just have to have an idea.
Without words, it's nothing.
It's a line on the whiteboard that someone could have started and forgotten about.
With words, a revelation.
Art is the application of human creative skill.
If I placed the cup of cider on top of the Great Gatsby with the application of my human creative skill,
it is art.
So when the context I place defines the piece,
does it really matter?
Why shouldn't you say I'm not making art with my mouth,
folding over sounds with my tongue, sending waves to your ears, and hormones in your brain?
You've built this idea of what art can be based on your context and experiences;
why should I conform to that?