31 August 2011

Them Colours Never Run! Scrap Art Visuals and Storyboards


Them Colours Never Run! Scrap Art Visuals and Storyboards.

Problem – The more the efficacy of a detergent, the more belief that it will make your colours run and fade.

Opportunity – Use the current global turmoil to grab the attention of the consumer and convince them with authority that our brand will not do that.

Maximise Media – Insert print in business/politics section of print media. Use TV 15secs for commercial breaks during news broadcasts.

dhammika















Them Colours Never Run! Scrap Art Visuals and Storyboards.

Problem – The more the efficacy of a detergent, the more belief that it will make your colours run and fade.

Opportunity – Use the current global turmoil to grab the attention of the consumer and convince them with authority that our brand will not do that.

Maximise Media – Insert print in business/politics section of print media. Use TV 15secs for commercial breaks during news broadcasts.

dhammika




30 August 2011

Where I find a rock. Decide to live under it. Despite the cold.





I believe I can now quite confidently say I have begun even partly to understand Syd Barret, Kurt Cobain, Amy Winehouse and crew. When you have everything and still strive for that one thing that is peace, you do crave for nothingness. 

28 August 2011

Unlike Georgie P, I don’t even have to kiss the girls to make them cry!


CMB – LON UL506, I am early at check-in but surprised to see the already a long line. Finally get to the desk. Seemingly nice looking guy but now extremely harassed by the family before me travelling to Canada. Each bag easily over 23kg the new limit per bag. So I am the next unfortunate. I have been in Colombo for just five day so he is pleasantly surprised to see my humble 20kg Samsonite and just the camera slung over my shoulder. So I push my luck, inform him of my cold caught in cmb and request for an emergency exit seat as I plan to just sleep. No luck but he does inform me that one of the legroom seats in the middle is available. Despite insight into these seats occupied of families travelling with children I chance my luck. The boarding card with 50E now lies securely in my hand.

I board the aircraft with hope, the hope I carry back to London, the real hope that next month I will fly back to cmb with gainful employment which is long-term currently, but the more immediate hope that I will have a quiet flight, fast asleep. I go find my seat and my pulse rises imperceptibly. The four seats beckon, two occupied by a family and their toddler. The other by a lady and her active two year old child, my seat 50E  between them. As soon as I sit the lady with the child asks me how to raise the tv console. Her child meanwhile is pulling my shirt. I am more than dismayed. Keeping a straight face I settle myself down and immediately set about plugging my headphones in. I have no choice but sit hunched forward. The seat belt sign comes on and the captain starts to taxi out to the runaway.

The young stewardess notices my pain and asks me if I want to change seats. I am like a survivor from Irene the hurricane. I ask her if this can happen after taxing off. She responds kindly that we can do it in real time. I jump to my feet and follow her a little more back to an aisle seat next to a window seat.

A young lass sits in the window seat and I am deposited next her. I sigh in relief and set about making myself comfortable before the plane taxi’s off. The lass is in a white kuruta, blue jeans with all kinds of bangles around her hand. She has kicked her slippers off and has pulled her feet under her. Petite she is able to do this even with her seat belt on. I exchange a quick smile with her and ready myself for take off.

Then she starts to sob.

The plane takes off. She really starts to cry. Bitterly. Quite loudly.

WTF

Maybe the two babies on both sides of me on 50E would have been better?

This is not the first time this has happened to me. Both times on SriLankan, but I know its no fault of the airline. I panic and calm down again. The seat belt signs are off, I don’t remove mine but loosen it somewhat.

She’s still sobbing. Heart rending sobs. She has turned away from me, her petite body twisted to allow her to press her face hard against the seat away from me.

OMG

I quickly check my underarms. No it’s fine, the new Lacoste Sports scent overwhelms even me.

The crew now race around preparing the cabin for the morning meal. When the meal turns up the young lass sits up straight she’s having the omelette, for some sort of solidarity and to break the ice I have the omelette too. Although I would have preferred the kiribath!

After the meal it takes her less than a minute to curl up, start reading some sort of letter and start crying again.

I can’t take it any longer, I say to her:

‘Hey England’s not such a bad place you know, you don’t have to cry’

Her first instinct is to turn to me and deny the crying. Then she sees my smiling face and decides otherwise.

‘I am not going to England, I am going to New York’

‘Oh wow! NY is way better, you really don’t have to cry’

She proceeds to explain to me about how the whole family was down in cmb, and the new boyfriend who she has hooked up at the amuse (A-Museum to the teenagers amongst the reading audience), and how she just doesn’t want to leave behind all of them.

She’s still 19. I am tempted to tell her firmly to find herself another bloody boyfriend and get on with her life in NY.  Discretion proves otherwise.

This is when I get a sense of déjà vu. This has happened to me before. The same period too. Another year and another young lass of course.

So a warning to all you frequent flyers in the months of Aug/Sep of any year. Especially from to cmb to the west. Young lasses like the one I met may sit in a seat nearest to you. All after a good holiday and heading back to University. In tears.

So will families returning home with many children.

You choose your poison, rather seat I mean. Always remember to carry a clean large hanky. It helps, either to clear baby slobber or to wipe away tears.


26 August 2011

Happiness’ Where I join the English Defence League!


Happiness’ Where I join the English Defence League!


Under the Sri Lankan sky on a rooftop down Fife Road my Kandyan Sri Lankan British friend made a pertinent comment on my visit to the Paradise Isle this week. He says “this bugger has lived in England for six years now, but whenever he’s in SL he absolutely has nothing nice to say about life there. The weather is cold, the tube is shit, the people are crap, etc., etc.”

So here’s to you my favourite Whiteman.

After attending a fair secondary school, my kid just got brilliant GCSE’s and will be attending sixth form at one of the best schools in the United Kingdom to do her A/L’s. She is brilliant and would have done well in any country, but this school makes it special. Lems Oxbridge aspirations for her are closer than you think. Mine are simpler as I want her to go to the fifth best medical school in the world – The Imperial College of medicine.

Lems works as a consultant to one of the best retail partnerships in England with stores from Oxford Street to everywhere in the UK.

However much I may complain I do work for my SIL, who owns her own law firm. Needless to say this brings about the benefits of working from home, appearing and disappearing, and the kind of lawlessness I love. My moonlighting at night as a bartender adds a bit of colour in my life. Especially at the infamous over 30’s disco which is held once a month and needs an iron heart to serve inebriated really desperate laddies and lady’s.  No, no ladyboys, thank you very much.

I play a bit of village cricket. Very enjoyable and as every Englishmen is susceptible to leg spin I do bag an average match haul of 5 wickets at each game. I will be playing this Sunday in a little village 5 miles from Oxford. 

Music, Culture, Dance, Art, Good Food, Great Drink. The streets and life of the City of London.

I travel to the US and the Paradise Isle at least three times a year. I do have the option to visit other places in the world, but the fact that our family matriarch has a mansion in Alexandria, VA, and Colombo; my youngest of the eldest sister and absolutely great friends in the Paradise Isle give me no need to see the world. Besides, other than Japan and China, I have seen most other countries.

There are a fleet of Mercs to drive here, from A class to C,E and M class, thanks to Lems and her family.  We live 25mins from Kings Cross on the Thameslink. 15mins to West Hampstead and the Jubilee Line to Bond Street, which is four stops.

So am I happy? Not really. For my Dad instilled in us this burning need to go after anything we need. But Mr. Whiteman, England’s OK!

My current quest for work in the Paradise Isle completes the dream, for I dare to dream of having the best of both worlds.

I have six years in England to thank for that. For as well as laugh, I have learnt to cry. To become a half decent human being and never afraid to be vulnerable. I am neither god nor legend.

I believe I now qualify for an honorary post in the English Defence League.
I think I am also a bit secretly proud of that Sri Lankiness’ in me, bitch we may, and boy do we bitch, but yes we’re very similar to the English, we also do quietly get on with it.
“Every journey has a beginning and an end. It’s the middle that counts”
Joanna Miles, Ex-ECD Phoenix Ogilvy Colombo and Proprietor Night Tiger, Singapore.  (Nothing to do with our now defunct tigers in SL, this was advertising. RIP Aunty Jo).


wait wait wait... 


it is still bloody cold here.