The house stands in Western Sydney, on the traditional lands of theDharug people— a country of rivers and ridgelines, of open woodland and sandstone patches that catch the late light and hold it for a moment before surrendering to dusk. The land feels older than the suburb, older than the street names, older than the fences that mark ownership. It carries memory in its soil.
This is where Denzil chose to begin again.
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The Leaving
Before this house, there was another.
A large two-storey home in Kellyville — ambitious, symmetrical, almost declarative in its scale. It rose as a statement of arrival. Rooms stacked upon rooms. A staircase that suggested ascent, progress, continuation.
But as the landscaping was being completed — turf laid, hedges aligned — the relationship that had framed the house came undone. The structure remained. The future did not.
The house became too large for one person. Its proportions echoed.
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The Choosing
What inspired you to move to this house?
Not impulse. Not escape.
But proportion.
He wanted something smaller.
Contained.
Intentional.
Not less — but more deliberate.
He chose a custom builder. Not a catalogue decision, not a house lifted whole from a display village. He selected one of their base designs and then began to redraw it quietly, room by room.
Walls shifted.
Finishes reconsidered.
Light studied.
He co-designed the interior — not extravagantly, but personally. Materials were chosen for touch as much as appearance. Surfaces that felt calm under the hand. Fittings that did not shout.
This house would not be a monument.
It would be an interior landscape.
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The Living
Six years on, the house has settled into him as much as he has settled into it.
Morning light moves across the floorboards in a thin arc.
Outside, the Cumberland Plain woodland — what remains of it — breathes beyond the new estates. The wind still carries dust from the ridgelines. The sandstone country persists beneath the bitumen.
Living on Dharug land carries a quiet awareness. The house is new; the ground is not. Beneath foundations lie layers of time. The geography shaped its first custodians; it now shapes those who arrive later, even if they do not always notice.
He decorates not for display, but for coherence. The rooms speak to one another. There is restraint. There is intention. There is, perhaps, a measure of solitude made visible.
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The Meaning
The first house was built for a shared future.
This one was built after loss.
The first rose upward.
This one spreads low against the land.
On Dharug Country — among rivers older than settlement and ridgelines that predate memory — he fashioned a dwelling that is neither grand nor provisional.
It is proportioned to one life.
Measured.
Deliberate.
Enduring, for now.
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A Buddha statue from Sri Lanka rests on an IKEA footstool, while above it hangs a Sri Lankan mirror framed with traditional paintings
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In the photo, a slim IKEA lamp throws a soft pool of light over a small still life of objects: a carved wooden horse from India, a serene Seevali and Siddhartha statues from Sri Lanka, and a cluster of dried plants gathered on Dharug country. Beside them sit my grandmother’s well‑worn betel mixer and a set of old rice‑measuring cups, their metal dulled by years of use, all grounded by the quiet white presence of my Sonos woofer tucked neatly into the arrangement
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On a shelf, a small still life of journeys and friendships comes together: a green elephant gifted by a classmate, a bright cockbird and four calm monk statues, and a sturdy wooden bull from India. They sit alongside a Buddha figure and a second elephant brought home from Thailand, all gathered inside a simple storage box, softened by the leaves of an IKEA artificial plant that shares the same modest frame.
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Two simple second‑handIKEAchairs sit at the front, with an IKEA settee behind them and, at the back, a blue armchair with matching footrest — both hand‑me‑downs from one of my kids, the footrest doubling as a magazine holder — all resting on an Iranian rug. Everything is wrapped in a small jungle of artificial plants from IKEA and Kmart, and amid this modern greenery, a treasured family heirloom from Sri Lanka — my grandparents’ paddy pot — quietly carries the memory of harvests and home into this corner.
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A long black dining table is set simply with white plates, striped placemats, and tall white candles, framed by white shutters and two slim black‑framed artworks on the wall. Mismatched white and light‑wood chairs line the table, while a black floor lamp, leafy potted plants, and the edge of a beige sofa with a blue‑and‑grey cushion soften the clean, minimalist feel of the room.
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A small white side table from Kmart holds a rounded vase from Winnies holds dried, copper‑coloured leaves, from Dharug country, their shapes fanning gently against a plain white wall. Next to it stands a tall wooden bedside table, its top shelf styled with a slim white and wood desk lamp, two small horse figures, a stack of novels, my bedtime readings, and a Sonos speaker that run on Google Home, creating a calm, minimalist vignette of warm wood and simple objects.
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A bright, open kitchen is centred on a long white island with a double sink and a book laid open at the corner. Behind it, a row of low windows frames lush green foliage outside, sitting just above the benchtop with a gas cooktop and oven neatly built in. White and light‑wood cabinetry, open shelves with neatly stacked cups and bowls, and three simple pendant lights overhead give the space a clean, modern feel, softened by small personal touches like family photos, a framed picture, and a vase of greenery.
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A Scandinavian-inspired aesthetic. The focal point is a large, asymmetrical gallery wall of black-and-white family photographs of Denzil’s grandchildren in simple white frames, showcasing candid multi-generational moments: parents with babies, children playing, siblings, and vintage-style shots of little girls in dresses. Above hangs a retro round clock with Roman numerals showing around 10:10. To the right stands a tall black floor lamp beside a healthy fiddle-leaf fig on a wooden stool, with part of a dark dining table, light chairs, and shutters visible. The space feels warm, personal, calm, and memory-focused.
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Sepia-toned display of religious and eclectic objects arranged on three floating white shelves mounted on a plain wall. The top shelf features Catholic devotional figurines: lSt. Francis, Virgin Mary, a black crucifix Jesus statue, and St. Anthony holding the child Jesus. The middle shelf holds worldly and symbolic items: a brass vase, measuring tapes, a small black elephant figurine, a golden peacock, and an ornate incense burner. The bottom shelf mixes modern and vintage: a white Sonos speaker, another incense burner, antique brass bell, small lidded Jewellery box and a slim vase with dried flowers.The collection blends faith, travel souvenirs, and everyday heirlooms, creating a personal, nostalgic altar-like vignette with a soft, vintage filter. All of these items (except the white Sonos speaker) are Denzil’s family legacy items that belonged to his parents and grandparents
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This bright, modern kitchen features a central light-oak island with open shelving and a white quartz top. A trio of sculptural beige pendant lights hangs above. Open shelves display tiny black chair figurines from IKEA, a speckled enamel mug with cutlery that belonged to Denzil’s parents and grandparents,, and vintage floral plates on a stand also from his family. The countertop holds a lush green plant in a red pot, stacked Surrounding cabinetry mixes white and warm timber tones, with a large fridge, oven, and a gallery wall of black-and-white photos in the background. The airy, family-friendly space blends clean lines with playful, personal touches.
A Child of Curiosity How inherent inquisitiveness became a key driver in learning experiences. Denzil Jayasinghe · B orn in the mid-20th century, I am a product of the post-World War II era. My parents, who were teenagers when the war commenced, married in the 1950s. As a representative of the baby boomer generation, I was born under the astrological sign of Capricorn, the tenth sign of the zodiac. My birth took place at Zoysa Nursing Home, a renowned institution in Colombo, Sri Lanka, around 5 in the morning. Sri Lanka, known for its tropical climate, is a beautiful island nation south of India. This climate appealed to me, and I sought similar weather in my twenties, spending them in Dubai, where the winter resembles an Australian summer. Raised by religious parents, I held them in deep affection. However, the church teachings posed a paradox for a young mind, instructing one to love God more than one’s parents. I initially adhered to the Ten Commandments and other societal norms in ...
Neville at the Edge Denzil Jayasinghe 3 min read · 10 hours ago In the lazy, sun-dappled days at St. Joseph’s Novitiate, where the beach seemed to hum with the scent of jasmine and the distant promise of monsoon clouds, there was a little haven we boys held dear — the Milk Bar. It was a humble shack just beyond the school’s creaky gates, its tin roof glinting under the noon sun, its wooden counter cluttered with frothy glasses of Milo, bottles of sweet vanilla milk, and a jumble of pencils and dog-eared notebooks for forgetful lads like us. To us, De La Salle boys, it wasn’t just a shop. It was a sanctuary, where the weight of prayers and the Brother-Superior’s stern frowns dissolved into the clink of coins and the soft buzz of our chatter. Neville was always there, a gangly boy with limbs that seemed to outgrow him, as if they belonged to a taller shadow. His parents had sent him to the Novitiate dreaming he’d don a Christian Brother’s collar, but Neville, with his twice-failed ...
Packing lists An addiction to packing lists Denzil Jayasinghe 3 min read·Nov 6, 2022 My fascination with packing lists started when I was young. Eventually, it became a life-long habit, a kind of addiction. When I enrolled at the Christian brothers’ formative school at eleven, a packing list was given to my parents. 2 School shorts 2 School shirts, white 2 Baniyans, aka vests 4 Pairs of white socks 1 Sarong 2 Casual shirts 2 Casual shorts 2 Handkerchiefs 1 Toothbrush 1 Comb 1 Bedsheet 2 Pillowcases 1 Pair of black shoes 1 Pair of canvas sports shoes My parents went into fast gear to assemble the packing list. My father started from the bottom of the list, the shoes. He took me by bus to Colombo to P G Martins, a shoemaker. We came out of that shoe store with DS-branded black and Shinwa-branded canvas shoes. Also bought was a Ford suitcase, in shiny sky-blue colour. Mother bought vests and socks from Velona, a garment outlet run by one of our relations, Aunty Helen. A trip to a ta...
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