From Guest to Gallery: Ashley’s Journey to Marfa and the Milky Wayfarer

One of the first photos I ever took in Marfa was of my wife Becca and our youngest son,

standing in front of Dan Flavin’s large-scale fluorescent light installation at Chinati. I didn’t know at the time that this moment would become a touchstone — not just for our family, but for a future piece of art, a future connection, and a future blog post (hi).

Years later, scrolling through Instagram, I saw a painting that stopped me mid-scroll. It was soft, electric, vibrating in all the right ways — a reinterpretation of Flavin’s unmistakable light work. The artist was Ashley. Something about her vibe felt familiar, and I had a hunch she had stayed at our Airbnb. It wasn’t immediately obvious, but after doing a little digging, sure enough—she had. That painting now hangs on the wall in the very home she once called her own for a weekend.

Naturally, I had to learn more.

A Long-Awaited Trip to the Middle of Nowhere.

Ashley first heard about Marfa the way many of us do — through whispered legends of the mysterious Marfa lights. Her older brother planted the seed. Later, in art school, she learned about Donald Judd and Dan Flavin — two minimalist giants who built an art movement in the middle of the West Texas desert. That mix of mystery and creative myth-making stayed with her.

But like many great trips, Marfa had to wait.

Marriage, motherhood, and the logistics of everyday life kept the visit on the someday list — until 2018, when Ashley and her now-husband finally made the pilgrimage for their honeymoon. They stayed at El Cosmico, toured Chinati, attended a Star Party at McDonald Observatory, and fell into the quiet, cosmic rhythm of the desert.

“We arrived at night and I just remember thinking it was perfect. It was so dark and

calm and peaceful. After the madness of hosting a wedding in our backyard less

than a week before, it was exactly the quiet stillness I was hoping for.”

A Return to Marfa — and a Stay at the Milky WayFarer.

Ashley has returned to Marfa three times since that honeymoon — bringing art supplies every time. On one of those trips, she stayed at the Milky Wayfarer with her husband and daughter. They made themselves at home quickly.

“We walked in and I felt both at home and in awe of how perfect it was. You guys

didn’t cheap out on anything. There is so much love in every detail — from design

to construction to décor.”

They spent slow mornings sipping tea, listening to vinyl—The Black Keys, Johnny Cash, Bob Marley, and Miles Davis—drawing at the kitchen island, and embracing the kind of vacation where doing less somehow fills you more. It was, as she put it, “a creative retreat and a reset from the everyday.”

Ashley even joked about leaving behind a painting — though at the time, neither of us knew how prophetic that thought would be.

"I would absolutely book with you guys! No changes, no notes. I would go back to

Margaret's for those incredibly colorful deviled eggs. I would have breakfast and

coffee at The Sentinel every day and second breakfast at Marfa Burrito."

In a town full of visual stories, sometimes the most delicious ones are found on a plate.

The Dan Flavin Thread.

Months later, Ashley was invited to participate in a Southwestern-themed Square Foot Show. While digging through old Marfa photos for inspiration, one in particular caught her attention: a shot she’d taken inside the Dan Flavin installation.

“I’ve always loved that photo, and I was like — hell yes. Homage to Dan Flavin.”

The painting she made is unmistakable in its energy. Lime green meets cadmium red. Wobbly lines pulse with life. It glows — not in the way light glows, but in the way memory glows. And maybe that’s what stopped me in my scroll — not just the colors, but the feeling.

Ashley had no idea I’d taken a photo of my family in front of that same work years before. And I had no idea she’d stayed at our place. But somehow, that connection formed — and the painting found its way back to the desert.

Art, Business, and Letting Go.

Like many artists, Ashley juggles the joy of creation with the realities of running a small

business. She paints, sells, ships, markets, and shares. Some pieces sit. Others strike a nerve and find their forever home.

“Once I finish a painting, I want nothing more than for it to connect to something

within someone else... The pieces that have found a home typically found it

because of a personal connection to the subject matter.”

Having her work hang in a short-term rental is a new kind of experience — not static on a

gallery wall, but lived with, noticed, remembered by a rotating cast of guests. She says it feels “full-circle and meant to be.” I couldn’t agree more.

What’s Next for Ashley?

She’s currently working on a 2026 floral-themed calendar and has more Marfa-inspired pieces for sale just across the street from The Sentinel at Marfa Mood Mercantile. You can follow her journey on Instagram @ashley_o_art or sign up for her newsletter at ashleyoart.com.

As for us? We’ll be here — continuing to share stories about how this little desert town leaves its mark, one guest, one piece of art, one memory at a time.

Rob & Becca