My father was a man of science rather than art.
The only piece of contemporary art I remember hanging on the wall of the family home was a print of a painting by Rolf Harris portraying a tree in the outback sunset. I suspect it was chosen for its 1970s in vogue orange hues rather than any artistic merit.
My mother was the creative one, I still remember turning up at primary school wearing a tie made from leftover lime green and yellow floral material matching the living room curtains. ?
It's a miracle I didn't grow up to be a serial killer.