Prod a severed frog's leg with electricity and the dead nerve will signal muscles to contract, forcing the leg to kick. Stimulus, reaction.
Attempting art is breath-holding exploration though unfamiliar topography. A conscious decision to strike out overland, in hopes of an alternate route home.
To me, that first deliberate step into the unknown feels like electricity when my brain decides to irrevocably alter an instrument into which I've invested over a hundred hours of hand labor. My body reacts with adrenalin.
Tingle of risk.
Sometimes, the electricity extends to others. Photos of Simplicity headless multi-scale guitar sparked fantastic comments:
"Wow. Nice effects. That looks like it's been bolted together out of salvage from a sea battle."
"Looks like a medieval weapon."
"Now I am sure that you were abducted by aliens and somehow managed to steal their secret guitar designs."
"I really love the instrument. In particular the design & build quality of the controls and their re-location is such an elegant solution to a long standing issue. The instrument makes a strong statement."
But is it art?
My undergrad poetry prof. Peter Wood once said: "The purpose of art is to comfort the afflicted, and to afflict the comfortable."
PS: I should clarify on record that (yes) I was abducted by aliens and shown guitar design technology. Radiohead wrote about my experience in Subterranean Homesick Alien:
I wish that they'd swoop down in a country lane,
late at night when I'm driving.
Take me on board their beautiful ship,
show me guitars as I'd love to see them.
I'd tell all my friends but they'd never believe me,
They'd think that I'd finally lost it completely...