I collected art for a long time from various thrift stores with one wall in mind. The wall is 20 feet high, and narrow. It's way the hell up there. Once I thought I had enough pieces, I laid them down the hallway according to the measurements of the wall, and then rearranged each piece until I was pleased with the order of things. Still, this wall was hard to get to, and seemed impossible, as it faced a staircase, and had walls on either side.
Enter my dad Charlie. This is him at The Broad museum in downtown LA. He is not what I would call an art guy. I think he was most baffled/intrigued by Sherrie Levine's cast-bronze copy of a Marcel Duchamp urinal, and the Jeff Koons vacuum cleaner piece. He's a math man who operates on pure logic, which is why he's a GENIUS at spacing each picture perfectly in a gallery wall, and knowing how to position the Little Giant ladder just so. He is also completely unaware of his age, which is how he ended up teetering on the extremely tall ladder hanging art for me. Because yes, I'm that spoiled.
I'm sure he finds a lot of my ideas about home decor pretty "out there", but he executes said ideas perfectly Every.Single.Time. This time, he executed my vision shirtless while wearing a hot pink apron that read "Foxy and Crafty". So enjoy that. You're welcome.