Sally Jerome

New Yorkers are usually late getting somewhere, hustling our walk a bit to keep up, head down looking at directions or up in the cloud of music in our headphones, fashioning our movie montage as we go. Public objects anchor our glamorously nondescript moments, often unceremoniously tossed away, forgotten, splayed out on the concrete and awaiting more ruin. In Sally’s paintings, these bent, broken, and askew things are in the midst of their own private dramas, unfurling under the light and shadow meant for us in the moments after we’ve overlooked them. I am especially entranced by and keep returning to her recent painting depicting (I think) a bouquet of rolled up grocery store fliers wedged into a steel bannister, abstracted once again from their original anonymity and irrelevance, and given a new grace, in pausing on them to pay attention. — Delighter #22