There are so many new subscribers here — Welcome!!!
The last week has brought an outpouring of support, encouragement, introductions, recommendations, resources, and stories from this community. We’ve received notes from hoteliers, designers, artists, operators, and people just simply cheering us on!
The overwhelming feeling on our end is gratitude. As Barry and I step into stewardship of this property, we feel incredibly honored.
A few frequently asked questions have surfaced over the last week, so I thought I’d answer them here:
Am I still offering brand strategy consulting? Yes. While we build the hotel over the next year (and hopefully well beyond that), I will continue working with a small number of founders, creative businesses, hospitality projects, and independent brands. Creative strategy remains some of the most rewarding work I’ve ever done. I love helping people uncover what makes their work distinctive and translating that into something clear, coherent, and actionable. If you’re seeking clarity, structure, or strategy for a project you’re building, I’d love to hear from you.
When are you opening? In phases.
Phase One Operate the rooms largely as they exist today, introducing thoughtful improvements, better hospitality, and small design interventions throughout the summer.
Phase Two Refurbishment during the winter, with a focus on working alongside artists, makers, craftspeople, and designers we love from across the Hudson Valley to bring it to life.
Phase Three Launch the full concept in Spring/Summer 2027, including reimagined guest rooms, common spaces, a café, and restaurant.
How are you funding the project? We’re self-funding Phase One. This summer is about learning the building, operating the rooms, understanding demand in real-time, and generating operating data. By the end of this season we will have invested about $100k into the start up of the rooms operation. We won’t have any staff, partnering with a local housekeeping company, and keeping it lean and mean.
We’ll begin raising capital for Phase Two during the summer, with refurbishment work planned to begin December 1, working toward our fully imagined concept launch for next summer.
One of the central balancing acts is determining how much investment is required to achieve the room rates and guest experience we envision, while also protecting investor repayment timelines. We estimate this number to be around $1.5M, which includes contractor work, furnishings, fixtures, some equipment, and operating ramp capital.
We’re not pursuing a moonshot venture model — what attracted us to this opportunity was in many ways, more compelling: a strong asset in a growing market with healthy projected returns and significant upside through thoughtful operation and design. A little more “boring” than a huge 10x return, but a very thoughtful and realistic investment in a growing market, at a very low entry point.
Ultimately, understanding how strong the investment fundamentals of the property are was the deciding factor that gave us confidence to move forward.
Can people get involved? Yes, please. Barry and I are simply stewards of this project. If you know someone whose work should be part of this story, send them my way.
We got the keys. That evening, after the lawyers, signatures, bank wires, logistics, and adrenaline had finally settled, Barry and I carried two chairs into the empty room we’ve started calling the living room and watched the sun disappear behind the Hudson. There was almost nothing in the space. Just the two of us sitting in a building that suddenly belonged to our care.
The river is astonishing. The sky seems impossibly large. Barges drift past. The birds are chirping. Everything feels connected to something older and more enduring than whatever urgent thing is happening in my inbox.
For the first time since deciding to do this, we weren’t talking about projections or permits or operating plans. We were simply sitting with the reality of it. A lot of life can change when someone hands you a set of keys.
We spent the day walking every square foot of the property, opening cabinets, peering into storage closets, pulling things from shelves, tracing the decisions of previous owners and previous decades. Buildings are funny that way — they hold imprints of decisions-past. A hotel especially carries layers: one owner adds something, another removes it. Someone paints over a wall, someone closes a door that used to be open. We want to open it back up.
By the end of the day we had created large piles throughout the property, prepped for removal to the transfer station. Removing the old, stepping into the new.
The dump. There is probably a metaphor here about letting go, but honestly it was mostly just multiple trips to the transfer station with a truck full of things that had reached the end of their useful life. Still, there is something satisfying about subtraction.
The romantic version of hospitality development is mood boards and beautiful renderings. The actual version often involves hauling broken furniture and obsolete electronics into a dumpster while sweating through your shirt.
More clearing. More moving. More uncovering.
We emptied closets, relocated furniture, stripped rooms back to their essentials, and tried to create enough visual quiet to actually see what was underneath. I keep finding myself resisting the urge to design too quickly.
Every creative person knows the temptation of arriving with answers before you’ve spent enough time understanding the question. For now, we’re trying to listen more than we speak. The building is slowly revealing itself.
This was the biggest workday so far. We removed outdated televisions from walls, patched drywall, shifted curtain rods throughout the property, treated window framing, and made what felt like an endless procession of trips to the hardware store.
This morning we met with the county health department for an initial walkthrough of the property. We received our marching orders. It went VERY well, which was a big relief — threshold crossed.
Other tasks completed:
New bedding and curtains arrived.
Balcony furniture unpacked and delivered to each room.
Planted some jasmine for our entry.
We set up the internet account.
Hospitality development turns out to be an endless oscillation between poetry and utility.
Today we started painting the lobby. Because we’ll be welcoming summer guests before the larger renovation begins, we wanted at least one room to feel resolved, a signal that someone is thinking carefully about the experience of arriving here.
I chose Overcast (Sherwin Williams), a warm creamy neutral that envelopes, and made the tricky decision to paint over all the trim and doors. Generally speaking, I don’t condone painting original-wood-anything. But this trim was not original to the building — it was added much later and feels visually disconnected from the architecture surrounding it. So to save this sweet building from bad design decisions, I blasted right over the trim… and I am so happy I did!
I also picked up a beautiful MCM aluminum bar cart from a local antique barn that will become an honor bar and coffee station for summer guests. I’m also bringing a sculptural vase and lamp from home. I’ll find some beautiful art for the walls.
Long term, I’d love to commission a muralist for this space, to create something irreplaceable (like the property) and inspired by the Hudson Valley landscape. I keep returning to the idea that a hotel lobby should flip you into discovery. The moment you step inside should feel different from the moment before it: an invitation into another rhythm, another perspective.
I’d like to document the process of finding this artists (I already have a few leads from my substack community!) and will share with you all how we move through that!
I can’t express enough gratitude for this opportunity. It truly feels like a dream come true to build a little hotel of our very own.
There is also an overwhelming sense of god(dess)’s hand; the universe is in full support of this project. Every day brings a small detail, conversation, coincidence, or introduction that create a deep sense of alignment, showing me this is where I am meant to be.
At the same time, this opportunity was certainly not handed to me. A significant portion of my savings, and a significant portion of my future earnings, will go into this business. Moving our family across the country and trusting in my instincts that something big was waiting for us on the other side. Signing a lease of this size and carrying the responsibility that comes with it is no small thing. All that risk is real.
And yet, I trust myself to hold it. Learning to trust myself to this extent took years of mistakes, accountability, uncomfortable lessons, and choosing to keep going anyway. That trust was earned.
We took a risk many people would be unwilling to take. There are moments of fear, of course, but what I feel most is courage. To live fully. To express. To follow curiosity wherever it leads. To participate in life rather than observe it from a distance. To do the thing and live deeply. Awake.
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