Haring
He started in the subway.
Chalk on black paper.
Thick lines. Bright color. Figures that moved
like they couldn't be still.
New York in the 80s was loud, urgent, and alive —
and Haring wasn't just part of that scene.
He helped define it.
Alongside Basquiat and Warhol,
he was reshaping what art could be,
who it was for,
and where it belonged.
Art is for everybody.
He meant that literally.
The Pop Shop in SoHo sold his work on t-shirts,
tote bags, and magnets.
He put it on subway walls, city murals, and Swatch watches.
He wanted it everywhere —
because everywhere was the point.
The Radiant Baby.
The barking dog.
Work that looked like joy and meant something much deeper.
Racism. AIDS. Power. Humanity.
All of it wrapped in color bright enough
to stop a stranger underground.
He had a decade in the spotlight.
He used every second of it.
A lifetime of meaning left behind.
Haring.
And that's why it stays on the table.