Before Twitter and Facebook, there was graffiti. It told us who, what, and where. It was a shout out, a prayer, a protest, a hello, a wish, and a good-bye. An identity in spray paint, initials tossed up on the overpass, morphed into fine art thanks to the likes of Keith Haring. His images, now icons of an era, came to an end too soon. With his death at 31 due to complications from AIDS, Haring's graffiti art was the perfect egalitarian counterpoint to the corporate conservatism of Reagan's 1980s. Discovering a Haring in the subway, drawn in chalk on black paper before a new ad was posted, was like discovering a new form of life. And then came success. His images appeared on everything and everywhere, especially as he fueled the merchandise craze with his store, The Pop Shop. I even had a Haring-designed Swatch, the epitome of chic at the time. Today, incorporating graffiti text into an image brings a hard-edged energy to the most staid and established images. Before his death last year, Robert Rauschenberg's best piece in his 2008 show at PaceWildenstein Gallery is this print combining literature, photographs, and graffiti-like text. This graphic mixture is explosive.