Untitled 1986

Here, we have a vibrant drawing, or painting by Keith Haring, swirling with energy and color. It's a head, maybe a mask, made up of lines like colorful worms wriggling across the surface. I can imagine Haring in his downtown studio, the music blasting, him just going for it. He knew what he wanted to say, and he just put it down, immediate and raw. The colors—red, yellow, blue, green—they're almost primary, like he’s getting down to the basics, the building blocks of seeing. Each line seems to vibrate independently, but together they form a face, a presence. It reminds me of other artists who just went for it, like Pollock with his drips or Miró with his playful shapes. They weren't afraid to be messy, to be human. Haring was like that too, using his art to talk about life, death, and everything in between. It's a reminder that art isn't about perfection; it's about expression, and sometimes, a little bit of chaos.