Ghost Town

Hurricane Irene 2011: I'd rather be in a dust storm.

This was my catch phrase for the evening. It's been an interesting week on the east coast. First an earthquake, which I felt rattle my bedroom for half a minute, never thinking for an instant that it was actually what it was. Then of course, the monster of Hurricane Irene, which bypassed my home state for the most part, (and cancelling my parents flights up to Philly this past weekend for a wedding) and slammed into the Carolina's, Mid-Atlantic, and Northeast with a storm the size of Europe.

We were fine. Didn't even lose power. Did not attend the wedding. (Which by the way, I feel pretty bad about still.) Everyone was so back and forth about it - "Aw, it's just going to rain! No big deal," or "Fill your bathtub with water! Evacuate NYC and the Jersey Shore! Board up your windows!" My stance, for the most part, was just that with something like this headed your direction (a giant, swirling hurricane) better to be safe than sorry. I'm from Florida, I've survived countless OH NEVERMIND IT'S HEADING SOMEWHERE ELSE and the infamous category 5 that slammed my region in 1992. (I was 9, didn't have power for 2 weeks, school was delayed, we still had a roof over our head and many others didn't.) Whatever. They happen, just not usually up here.

Post-storm: With many of my friends now at or on their way to the playa, everything is eerily quiet. The internet is quiet, the city feels quiet. Communication has come to a slow stop. (Maybe a pause.) I've been having dusty dreams of playa adventures, and the longing I am experiencing after just one visit is unlike anything I've ever felt. When you're there, you're "home." Welcome home, everyone greets you. Isn't it good to be home? ... I wish I was home. (2012, baby, I'm there.)

I have an oddly large number of days off this week before I start working just about full time, and so I'm busy trying to find things to do with myself. It's only Tuesday. (Scratch that, it's Wednesday now that I'm posting this. Almost half over.) So far I've spent an entire day working on my commissioned painting, half of one to fix my sewing machine and patch some pants for my darling, and have started a couple of new pieces. Nothing big or drastic, just some subjects I wanted to revisit (drawing/painting of the Golden Spiral - another part of math and geometry I find fascinating and beautiful - attempting to finish up some paintings I started long ago, and working on a hand-painted card for my cousin's wedding I missed this weekend due to the hurricane.)

A Night in Wyman Park (Bamboo)
24" x 48", oil on canvas © 2010

I recently received an order for a print of my most sought-after painting, "A Night in Wyman Park (Bamboo)", pictured above. (I call it "Bamboo" for short and everyone pretty much knows which one I'm talking about... also referred to sometimes as "the really expensive one." The original painting is priced kind of high because well, I'm attached to it and it took many months on and off to paint.) The original size is fairly large, as you can see, and since all my files for my larger paintings that I can't fit into a normal size scanner are from high-res photographs, there was some serious doubt in my mind as to exactly how big I could print it without losing detail.

I am relieved and proud to say that I was able to print the painting everyone wants but no one can afford at 15" x 30" and it still came out amazing! (For any interested clients, a print of this painting that size will cost you $80. What. A. Deal!) I have had nothing but really excellent results reproducing my work so far for art prints. Not that I'll ever reach the limited edition number (most of them are around 100 or 50 prints) but selling anything feels great. I've been at this more "professionally" for almost a year now... and while it seemed rough at times, I can look back at it all today and think - "Wow. I sold one painting, 5+ prints, and have had one commission. Not bad." (This doesn't count printmaking sales, which involved a couple art auctions for various causes and some sales to friends here and there.) It could be better, but it could be worse. I'm still new at this marketing thing. Technically, since I never gave two shits whether or not my work sold or anyone saw it for most of my post-art-school-undergrad career, I have indeed made progress - even if just compared to myself.

Is there anybody out there?

It was about time I had one of these. Welcome to the blog of Xtina Carbone (de la Schuetz), where I will be using this space to show the world my work in whatever form it may take. Paintings, drawings, sketches, photographs... muses, videos, performance opportunities, exhibitions, and whatever else I can think of.

I've been an artist for as long as I can remember, but it wasn't until this past summer where I up and quit my cubicle desk job (HAHA TAKE THAT CORPORATE AMERICA) and went to Burning Man that I allowed myself the time to dedicate fully to "being an artist", whatever that means. As far as I'm concerned I never stopped, just put it on hold for a little while.



It was an adventure, to say the least. I came back and started painting again in all my free time, enough to put together a show in a local gallery space (my first solo show!) and for the first time in my life, try and make my artmaking sustainable. Not that I want to be a big shot famous artist with a loft in NYC or anything - no, no. I'd be more than happy to sell a few paintings and maybe paint some more murals and get paid... who knows? The possibilities are endless. I've always been extremely terrible at marketing myself - then again, until I had this show, the only friends or acquaintances of mine that have seen my work are those that have actually spent time in my kitchen. (That's where my "studio" is in my teeny apartment.) Now I'm getting my work and my identity as an artist out into the universe - and hopefully good things will come from it. I still need a real job, though.

I'll post paintings as I feel like it or as I work on them... here is my latest, most favorite. I priced it at $9000 at my show (Or Best Offer, but that's in the fine print that no one read.) It's overpriced even for me, but I really like it and don't want to let it go to just anyone. I can make archival art prints of almost all of my paintings right now for much, much cheaper (between $50-100 depending on the size of the piece and print.)

A Night in Wyman Park (Bamboo)
24" x 48"
oil on canvas

Until next time... thanks for reading.