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JEROME'S ALLHALLOWTIDE: 30th Anniversary of His Death

11/3/2025

 
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Jerome’s Allhallowtide

It is November 3, 2025 — the 30th anniversary of Jerome Caja’s death. Every year when this day creeps up, it feels auspicious and witchy. It is a day ripe for reflection. Because this is the time of year when the veil between the living and the dead is said to be at its thinnest, I summon Jerome from the other world and feel him nestle deep inside my bones. I find his restless (and relentless) spirit oddly comforting.

Reflecting Back

Exactly one year ago today I was in Cleveland, Ohio with Jerome’s mother, Bernardine Caja. We were sitting together at her kitchen table honoring her son’s death by reading aloud letters he had written to her. She has been doing this ritual for years alone on this special date. It was a blessing to be invited in and share that extremely intimate moment with her.

It’s an Omen

I find it uncanny how three consecutive holidays: All Hallows’ Eve, All Hallows’ Day, and All Souls’ Day fall on the cusp of Jerome’s death. It is no coincidence that Jerome lived through his last three beloved holidays and then died the day after.

  • October 31st: All Hallows’ Eve (also known as Halloween) is a shapeshifting prankster’s playground and has always been the largest public platform Jerome exploited. No matter how damp and cold it was, Jerome would still wear next-to-nothing lingerie, paint his face a drag fright, and pose for all the looky-loos wanting to snap pictures of his newest gangly, ghoulish creation. Everyone wanted a piece of his spirit.

  • November 1st: All Hallows’ Day (also known as All Saints Day) is a religious holiday that celebrates the saints Jerome loved. As a child, Jerome reveled in the gruesome martyrdom of saints. Buttler’s Lives of the Saints was one of his favorite books. He knew it well and used it as a constant source of artistic inspiration. It was like a bible that he kept close, within arm's reach of his palette. He painted beautiful and disturbing depictions of Saint Lucy’s bloody vacant stare and Saint Sebastian’s muscular, bare torso pierced with arrows.

  • November 2nd: All Souls’ Day (also known as Day of the Dead or Día de los Muertos) has been rich fodder for Jerome’s art and gallows humor. Death is a theme that constantly surfaces in his work. Skulls litter and haunt his paintings. If you look closely, you’ll see he gave many of these skulls shiny, glittery makeovers. Blue eyeshadow sparkles above hollow eye sockets, ruby-red lipstick frames jawbones full of dangling loose teeth, and black beauty marks accent high cheekbones. Death was literally on Jerome’s palette. For two years he painted with human remains by mixing nail polish with the ashes of his best friend who had died from HIV/AIDS. Jerome exhibited these intimate works of art as precious reliquaries and then gave them to his dead friend’s family and loved ones. Death permeates Jerome’s art.

Now Let’s See What Jerome Conjures up Next

As I am sitting here looking back on this transformational year with The Jerome Project and my film, there is this one very strange memory that stands out and still sends a chill down my spine. It’s something I never really gave much thought to until now.

Again, like we always do, Bernie and I were sitting at her kitchen table chatting about her son Jerome and his art and reminiscing about his antics. Off the cuff I asked her if she thought Jerome was resting in peace. Under her breath, in a deadpan and dead-serious way, she simply stated — “My son does not want to rest in peace.”

The Witching Hour

I have to say, as the darkest part of the day approaches on this 30th anniversary of Jerome’s death, I completely and wholeheartedly agree with Bernie. I don’t believe Jerome ever wanted peace beyond the grave; on the contrary, I think he wanted to instigate, agitate, and disrupt forever. It is his power. It is his strength. Most importantly, it is how he infiltrates our subconscious and manages to get underneath our skin like no one else. Knowledge is dangerous (even terrifying) when wielded as beautifully as Jerome did. As I type these words, all the tiny hairs on the back of my neck are standing up.

In Veneration of Jerome

Together let’s take a moment to close our eyes, commune with the dead and contemplate — “What uneasiness lurks in the shadows and how can it alter our daily lives in a way that profoundly frees our spirit?”

‘Tis the season of the dead.
​

PLEASE NOTE: For those of you that would prefer listening to this article instead of reading it, feel free to access the MP3 audio file below. I narrated it.
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by Anthony Cianciolo

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