I remember the old hotel as a gray building with no paint. As a child, I once went into the building with my grandmother, who was visiting a friend or relative who lived there. When, in recent months, I learned how the hotel looked when it was young, I was fascinated. It seemed that I was viewing another world. I felt a sense of sadness and loss, yet was thrilled to see Finn Hotel as she was meant to be. At the time of this old photograph, it was probably known by an earlier name.
For months, I thought about painting the hotel. I finally took the plunge, and called it a labor of love. I have received compliments on the painting, but I would be remiss without mentioning the unknown craftsmen and carpenters who brought her into existence. She was quite a beautiful building.
