BW: You art collection is impressive - can tell us about your relationship with collecting?
David: I came to art the way most people come to the things that matter most, sideways, and entirely by accident. I know nothing about art, and I've made my peace with that. What I do know is what stops me in my tracks, what makes me want to live alongside something, what earns its place on my walls. I've come to realise, that’s enough. I've spent hours, days, hunting for just the right pieces, moving through markets and galleries and obscure corners of the internet with the kind of focus I'm not sure I apply to much else. And that's the revelation, really. It's not about what you spend. It's entirely about the hunt. The moment you find the thing you didn't know you were looking for - that's the fun, right there.
BW: How does this apartment make you feel?
David: Relaxed. That's the only word that truly captures it. There’s a moment at the end of the day, when I close the front door behind me and the apartment seems to breathe around me. The colours deepen, the light shifts, and something in me untangles. That is an extraordinarily rare thing to find in four walls.
BW: What is so special about Elizabeth Bay and its surrounding suburbs?
Elizabeth Bay occupies a particular kind of magic that resists easy explanation. Geographically, it holds all the cards, the harbour at the end of the street, the city a walk away, the stadium, the parks, life at every turn. But what I find most extraordinary is something less tangible, a sense of community that has somehow survived intact, sheltered from the noise and scale that has consumed so much of Sydney. People actually acknowledge each other here. The streets have texture. It is, I think, one of the last genuinely intimate corners of this city.
