A week in the life of... Jason Borbet aka BORBAY, Artist, New York, New York
Coraline makes it known — it’s time to get up. Diaper, outfit, milk, play, eggs, apple slices, potty, play, read, nap.
Helping Supermom Erin — spent time painting with both Vega (16 days) and Coraline (1.5 years) in the carrier. It feels like they grow up in four purple boxes.
Unloading the dishwasher — Warhol Mugs in the back. The significance: my French Pressed Dunkin Dark fills a Warhol mug on work days… no such studio sessions for now, Vega is brand new.
Erin and Vega are off to the Acupuncturist, so Coraline and me did some drawing (she loves woof-woof’s).
Phone interview with the Smithtown News (local paper where I grew up) with Vega strapped to my chest.
Gym: 30 minutes bike (reading WSJ level effort), weights, pedestrian kilometer run on the treadmill. Home, scorching hot Epsom Salt bath with NY Post and a frosty Yuengling. (Picture redacted).
Vega can’t sleep = we all can’t sleep. Monster pot of coffee (You got Litt Up mug), playing with Coraline, trip to the gym (30 minutes vigorous bike).
Coraline up from nap, I enter studio, lock door, queue up Episode 1 Season 1 of Twin Peaks, get to work on 48”X48” canvas.
Art Consultant cold calls about a painting, project isn’t a fit, lovely conversation ensues.
Since my showers are so inconsistent, I decided to shave my head to facilitate simple cleaning (read: a whores bath).
Two under Two parenting wheels fall off the bus. None shall sleep.
Trip to the DMV Express — surprisingly efficient; off to Gramercy Tavern to unwind with Tito’s and the WSJ.
Signed a contract with Forbes to blog about art business as a contributor.
Collector introduction leads to a commission, contract signed — beautiful. Managed to get in some work on the Mindscape in the studio.
Art Class with Coraline — probably could have chosen a better pre-passport-photo activity.
Arrive at post office with 3-week-old and 1.5 year old Daughters to snag passports. A family cuts us in line. 2 hours later, when we finally arrive at the window, it takes another hour to process… audible cursing all around us.
Puck drops at Chelsea Piers for beer league hockey. 39 shots and 32 saves = we got smoked.
Since I spent most of the weekend parenting and writing, figured I’d skip ahead to the publication of my first Forbes piece on art collecting.