The Magic Click: Photography, Presence, and the Soul of a Space

We'd been live with our Airbnb, The Milky WayFarer, for about a year when I started to feel a quiet itch--something wasn't sitting right. The house was performing well, guests were happy, and we were grateful. But every time I looked at our listing, I felt a disconnect.

The photos didn't feel like us.

They were fine--technically solid--but they didn't tell the full story. The light. The layers. The little

things we'd obsessed over while designing the space. There wasn't a sense of cohesion. No

emotional arc. The images didn't walk you through the home the way you feel it when you're actually there.

I'm not a photographer, but I knew we could do better. (BTW, I just play photographer on weekends.)

So I started looking. Which is harder than it sounds when you live in Marfa. Finding the right creative partner in a town this remote meant casting a wide net--and being willing to wait. After a few initial conversations, I got on a call with Art Moreno.

It only took a few minutes to know: he was the one.

Art wasn't just passionate--he was dialed in. About his craft. His tools. His process. His pursuit of magic through the lens. It wasn't just photography to him; it was storytelling. It was presence. It was soul.

That energy--that intention--was exactly what The Milky WayFarer needed.

Since that shoot, we've stayed in touch, often trading thoughts about light, life, and everything in

between. I'm lucky to call him a collaborator and now, a friend.

This post is about the result of that collaboration--but it's also about what happens when someone shows up with their whole heart and helps you see something familiar... differently.

A Shift in Perspective

"In a place like Marfa, everything shifts--especially the approach. It's no longer about routine or

standard angles. Creativity has to take the lead."

From the first shutter click, Art's way of seeing the world felt different. He wasn't just documenting a space; he was responding to it.

"Traditional 'four-corner photography' falls flat in a setting where the soul of the space is rooted in uniqueness."

That word--soul--came up a lot during our conversations. And it wasn't just a metaphor. For Art,

capturing a great image means respecting the truth of the space and resisting the temptation to

oversell it.

"Take the super wide-angle lens, for example--it gives a broader context but distorts reality... I call it the 'wonky-wide'--a surface-level approach that sacrifices honesty for impact. I'd rather find angles that tell the truth with beauty."

When It Clicks, It Sings

So what makes a photo work?

"Oh, you know it the moment it clicks--literally and emotionally. My soul sings. It's the perfect

marriage of elements: the right sensor size, the ideal focal length, ambient light falling just so, and sometimes a subtle kiss of flash."

That kind of harmony is rare--but when it happens, it's unmistakable.

One of those moments came at twilight, shooting the home's front elevation. Art called it his favorite from the series:

"There's something magical about the way the structure's clean lines catch the fading light--the

warmth, the contrast, the calm. It feels like the home is quietly welcoming you in."

Light, Patience, and the Right Kind of Silence

"You never know precisely when the light will show up, but when it does, it's glorious. Like a fish

rising to the surface, light can suddenly pour into a space and transform it."

Patience isn't just a virtue in Art's world--it's a tool. He compares shooting to fishing: all quiet

observation until something beautiful surfaces.

"That's why you train your eye to watch, and your heart to beat slow--to wait, to sense, to be ready. The magic moment rarely announces itself in advance. But if you're still enough, you'll feel it when it arrives."

Negative Space, Big Impact

"There's a quiet dialogue happening between the landscape and the architecture, where hard edges meet open skies, and stillness becomes its own kind of art."

Art talked about the power of negative space--not just in design, but in emotion.

"The deliberate use of negative space in photography creates visual breathing room... Simplicity in framing eliminates distracting elements and competing visual information."

By removing clutter--both visual and emotional--you allow presence to come forward. That's part of what gives Marfa its magnetic quiet. And it's what gives a photograph its emotional gravity.

"A beautiful picture pleases the eye, but a magical one speaks to the soul."

Translating Feeling into Image

"To capture the feeling of silence, space, and solitude, you have to strip away the noise--visually

and emotionally. Black-and-white photography does this beautifully. It quiets the frame, allowing the viewer's mind to breathe."

"There's something timeless and healing about it--almost as if, just for a second, life's problems fade and all that's left is presence."

The Final Frame

"So much of what we tried to create at The Milky WayFarer is intangible--texture, stillness, mood.

And yet, Art managed to capture it all. With light. With presence. With restraint."

"The most powerful moments are the ones that weren't planned at all--those unexpected flashes of life that bring depth and authenticity to the frame."

"A well-crafted photograph doesn't just show a space--it invites the viewer to step inside and feel it."

That's exactly what Art did.

And that, in the truest sense of the word, is magic.

Are you curious to learn what else Art is up to, check out https://www.punto0.net or https://www.mlscameraguy.com

Rob & Becca