Untitled 1978

This untitled work by Keith Haring is a blast of raw, rhythmic energy, laid down in thick, black strokes on what I imagine must have been a stark white surface. I can almost feel the urgency in Haring’s hand as he worked, each stroke a burst of pure expression. It's like he's channeling some primal language, a visual code bubbling up from the subconscious. I imagine him, maybe in his studio, headphones on, lost in the music, just letting it all pour out onto the surface. The marks are bold, confident, but there’s also this vulnerability, this sense of laying it all bare. Looking at this, I think about other artists who’ve explored similar territory, like Cy Twombly, or even some of the early abstract expressionists. It's like they’re all tapping into this shared well of human experience, translating emotions and ideas into these physical gestures. It reminds me that art isn’t just about what we see, but how we feel, and what we bring to it.