Regarding hanging one's own work at home - I do it because it fills a need to relive times that I enjoyed immensely.
Some of it's stuff from calendar shoots, some of it's just from trips the family and I did during our first few months here, when we were sussing out the island and building up a catalogue of locations that we could later use for more shoots. And my wife happened to like some of the pics.
Then, when the work dried up and I retired, those images took on another meaning for me. Unlike someone who has lived in the same place most of their life, built up an identity through his/her work, going away leaves that past far behind in as far as identity is concerned: there's no visible personal history by which the new world can know you. And worse: there's no visible means by which you can know yourself. It's strange, but I actually saw that happen with my mother the first time she thought she'd move out to live here too: I discovered her one day in tears. I asked her what was wrong and she replied: I've lost my identity. I thought she was nuts; she returned to Britain and spent many years there after that, until she was too old to run her own home, at which time she returned, to live with us.
Some flee their backgrounds to escape God alone knows what; others simply follow the latest urge, and yet others - like myself - believe they have found a better way to do business. Yet, I think in all cases, there is a loss of something personal. Now, of course, I understand that my mother's tears were nothing to do with losing one's mind: they were all to do with realising how empty losing the past can make you feel.
So that's a strong reason for me to hang some of what I do; other stuff is inherited but is paint.