I remember those brush strokes well; they adorned her spacious house that carried a hint of madness wrapped in a shawl of eccentricities that espoused her character so well.
Carrying a bouquet of yellow flowers (yellow symbolizing friendship) I was tempted to touch those paintings that were dark and yet depressingly sensual in their honest creation. There were no vibrant greens, lively blues and passionate yellows that painted her feelings; they were the earthy browns, decrepit blacks and sad crimsons instead.
This was Dillai stripped bare for the world to see. As I hugged her with a sense of familiarity I took in the hair, the talent and the face I knew so well, but which I left close to a decade ago at MindsFCB. I recall too many good memories; now we both laugh at her no-nonsense demands for better copy with final art work about to be shipped off in mere seconds to publishing oblivion.
I was told the hallmark of a real friendship was that you carry on from where you left off, and that is what we did. Ten years is a long time, and during that time she bore two beautiful children, and had started her own venture (The Next Big Think) with someone (that someone goes by the name of Megan Shatrughan) which mirrors her inimitable eccentricities.
That night just over a month ago marked an adventure in the shape of an art exhibition that drew gasps of appreciation for a labor of love that was unlike any other. Dillai spent three arduous years in the wee hours of the morning courting her madness; flirting with themes that we abhor; painfully painting, and enthusiastically telling a story that we all needed to hear. It was a story about those that personify her version of paradise in the fringes of Sri Lankan society.
There were 32 odd paintings that day; 22 have been sold. Her exhibition that showcased her own paradise resplendent with people and puddles was graced by Colombo’s advertising glitterati, diplomats, intellectuals along with family and friends.
Who’d have thought eccentricity could be this brilliant. Who’d have thought we would all see a bit of Dillai’s madness and stringent work ethic gracing the walls of Lionel Wendt, and for a fortunate few — their own homes.