I have enjoyed collecting art since I was out of college. As a young adult I would shop at a gallery on Montague St in Downtown Brooklyn that long closed (moved to NYC until the owners retired). I really enjoyed collecting signed and numbered serigraphs that were limited productions of maybe 200. Eventually I was able to get a few proofs and then some originals. I would go on a payment plan and after several months, depending on the piece, I would get a call that it was paid off. But there was only one problem. At the time I did not have my own place initially. So, the gallery happily stored the framed works of art for me. I owned beautiful artwork but never really saw it.

When I got my first studio Co-op in Brooklyn, I realized there was not a lot of wall space, so the artwork never made its way home. Instead I would store a few pieces at my mom’s house in my old room. When my family grew and we got our first house in Brooklyn, I was still purchasing artwork, at a slower pace of course and the gallery was holding quite a bit after some years. Why didn’t I hang any of it? My house had plaster walls that creaked almost as soon as my repairs were made. I learned a lot about different spackle and patching. I knew temperature changes and up and down humidity caused these cracks to keep coming back. I never was happy about this and I think this led me to not hang anything on the walls. You would think covering the cracks with artwork would make sense, but I hated the thought of taking them down and painting again.

A few years later, we got our beautiful house in Lynbrook. Being from the 1930’s it too had many plaster walls. This time, I learned of a great way to stop the cracks. Hanging fiberglass mesh, the kind you repair a hole with, that comes in 3-foot-wide rolls and apply it across the entire wall. Then skim coat it with spackle mixed with plaster. You get a sold surface that likely won’t crack for many years. Since we had the old style thick walnut window and door moldings, sheetrock over the plaster was not an option. We lived there for 16 years and rarely if ever, got a crack. But the damage to my mind was done. I still had this phobia about hanging anything on the walls for fear of a crack forming. As with most things in life, this likely dates back to my parent’s house in Brooklyn. It was an old and drafty house. My parents were never able to renovate the way I can today. Money was tight for us growing up. The plaster walls cracked uncontrollably. I remember helping paint only to see the cracks form months later. I am sure this remained in my head and stayed with me until now.

So, when we moved to Florida, I collected all this wrapped artwork and filled a full wall length closet in our spare bedroom (now my office) with these wonderful items. I am now looking for a professional art hanger to get these up. Not just for the desire to see the art once again, but to make better use of the much-needed full walled closet.

Never let cracks get in the way of art.