When the customs agent asks what kind of music do you do, you could answer with a familiar category but for many artists it never feels right. Feels about as correct as talking to a dead rabbit. Last semester, I learned about a famous moment in performance art. In 1965 Joseph Beuys performed How To Explain Pictures To A Dead Hare. He walks around a gallery, face covered in wax and gold leaf accompanied by a dead hare who he is whispering to and all the while the audience (it was an art opening) are locked out and can only watch through windows. The explanations I read discuss the symbolism of a dead hare or gold leaf. Maybe that’s more succinct but I couldn’t find anyone explaining why did he call the piece How To Explain Pictures To A Dead Hare – and I think I know. At least I know what goes off in my brain, namely the pointlessness of explaining art to anybody. There is a primary relationship between you and what you make. That’s why when they do ask at customs I politely answer Gangsta rap or easy listening which makes it a fair exchange.