Art is a term broadly defined. Sure, you could go with Webster’s definition—“the quality, production, expression, or realm, according to aesthetic principles, of what is beautiful, appealing, or of more than ordinary significance”—but hey, what does Webster know about art?
Art, like language, is constantly in flux, constantly in motion; it has no true definition. Put ten people in a room, ask them to define art, and you’re bound to get ten different answers. That’s just part of art’s inherent beauty—it’s wholly subjective.
Terry Border, a man who creates art from bent objects cleverly arranged in cheeky, irreverent and often comical positions, would have you believe art is a group of peanuts devouring the innards of another, less fortunate peanut, as seen in his piece Zombies Are Nuts About Brains.
He might also suggest that art is a flake of cereal, drowned in milk, and subsequently mourned by fellow flakes (Lactose Intolerant).
Whatever your definition, you have to admit, Terry Border certainly is a creative soul, and his art, while slightly more avant garde than, say, Stacy Bayne or Linda Brunker, is nothing short of brilliant.