Tim Miller. This guy got his National Endowment for the Arts grant taken away under pressure from the first Bush Administration for the subject matter of his work being ... wait for it ... gay. And he wasn’t alone. There were three other performance artists in the same boat—a lady who talked about sex, a lady who talked about being a lesbian, and an actor who was in the ZZ Top video for “Legs” and a several shows in the “Star Trek” series—I’m not sure what he talked about, but someone didn’t like it. They later got it back after suing the federal government for violating their First Amendment rights (God, I love that amendment).

It can be a mural on a street corner, a piece of art pasted to a wall or a rainbow dripped down the side of a building. Sometimes it’s graffiti; other times it’s propaganda. Street art can be a legal mural painted on a wall or surreptitiously placed in the dead of night, ninja style. Banksy, a highly secretive street artist who operates out of the United Kingdom, has painted murals on the sides of cows, pigs and sheep. He placed his own work inside the Louvre in Paris (it was quickly removed).

Chaz Bojórquez has never been caught, but he has been chased.

He laughs when he admits it, because it seems slightly absurd: a world-renowned artist with work hanging permanently in the Smithsonian American Art Museum being pursued by cops for painting something on the side of a building. Such is the life of a graffiti artist.

Even if you don’t recognize his name, you’d probably recognize Bojórquez’ work. He’s most well-known for a skull he designed that’s referred to as Señor Suerte, which he stenciled all over Los Angeles in the ’70s and became a symbol of protection among street gangs. Bojórquez’ cholo-style-graffiti-meets-Asian-calligraphy has inspired generations of street artists and shown in galleries across the globe. It’s hard to imagine he got his start tagging a garage door.