A True Yunatic
Some artists don’t paint – they ignite walls. Jean-Michel Basquiat rose from graffiti roots to become a global art icon before the age of 27. With every brushstroke, word, symbol and crown, he turned pain, politics and poetry into visual jazz.
His canvases spoke in code – anatomical sketches, historical wounds, cryptic text, kings and saints of the Black diaspora. Basquiat didn’t ask for permission. He painted with urgency, fire and soul, making the invisible impossible to ignore.
“I don’t think about art when I’m working. I try to think about life.” – Jean-Michel Basquiat
The Inner Child
Basquiat’s inner child was a genius with a crayon and a question. That child was hit by a car at age 7, gifted a copy of Gray’s Anatomy and never stopped drawing what the world feels like underneath. He brought that child with him into every gallery, every party, every canvas – playful, angry, wild and brilliantly unfiltered.
Tribbles
His tribbles changed art forever – raw, rhythmic and revolutionary:
- Collaboration with Andy Warhol – A friendship of contrasts: loud pop meets raw soul.
- SAMO© graffiti – Philosophical street poetry that turned New York into a notebook of truth.
- Neo-expressionist masterpieces – Untrained but unstoppable, blending text, anatomy, race and royalty.
- The Crown – His symbol of dignity and defiance, placed on Black heroes like jazz musicians, boxers, saints.
- “Untitled” (01981–01983) – Pieces that now sell for over $100 million – and still feel like burning truths.
Connected with the Yuniverse
Basquiat wasn’t here to explain – he was here to channel. His art was a portal between worlds: downtown & diaspora, pain & power, beauty & brutality. He spoke in layers – visual frequencies you could feel before you could decode. He wasn’t painting the universe. He was bleeding it onto the canvas.
Spiritual
His spirit pulsed through every mark, message and crown. He carried stories older than himself and let them shout through color and fire.
Jean-Michel Basquiat reminds us that art isn’t always pretty – sometimes, it’s the loudest way to tell the truth.