(Formerly Dundee Rep Theatre Arts Advocacy Project)

From left to right (back row)Craig Forbes, Delia Gallagher, me, Trisha Wright, Jim Strachan, Andy McGuinness, Kevin McCabe, Mandy Cummings, Patrick Donnelly (front row) Sam Keddie, June Brown, Rhona Hoggan)

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'ZEN'
by Craig Forbes

My life has been a voyage of discovery, I have found great joys, experienced terrible pain and know many things. Life in some ways, has been harsh, but I have been loved and I have laughed. All through the difficult times one feeling has kept me strong.

At my peak when I had everything a person could want it became a distant role. As I approached enlightenment the detour from my merry way became more and more arduous but I persisted. As I did so I became more aware of the distance I had to cover. My curiosity had always ruled me and the initial footfalls of my journey were propelled by this compulsion. As I learned and worked more study and more effort was required of me but it was only myself who demanded this. I did not seek to know the mind of god or live within a cult. I worked without scripture or guidance and saw my life experience enhanced then recreated.

I found myself, the greatest discovery for any individual is this. I demanded a great deal of myself, I pushed myself far beyond my limitations and much later I became enlightened. Finding the true beauty in every moment of existence, I cast aside all possessions and with them cares of all things, everything, fear, pride, hatred. All emotions rushed through me. Life is intensely beautiful. I don�t have the power suits or a Porsche, the material things men measure their success with. I�m happy and free, liberated. I have true feelings of joy as each new day arrives.

I was mentally ill and I survived because what I lost and couldn�t have, the things a normal person wants were things I discarded long ago. Poverty did not affect me I felt no shame and blamed no-one. Its difficult for a person to take things philosophically when they go mad but in the bleakest of depressions one memory shone like a jewel in the night. The work I had ahead of me, my recovery was a short way to go when I remembered my pilgrimage. The strength I knew returned to me to hasten my recuperation and all that I�d learned became my salvation. I am not normal now, I�m medicated for depression and schizophrenia but I am happy in my life even with this. I will probably always have this condition but I know it will always be okay to be me because I found myself and know me.

It may not be fate that I lived without what I was destined to lose in the end. It perhaps was part of a madness but I already had decided that I didn�t want to be normal which is kind of lucky because there is no chance I ever will be. I was once asked by a psychiatrist where I would go if I were not be kept in hospital? Where would you be if you weren�t here now?

I was honest and said I would be meditating under a waterfall (it was a nice day). He asked what I did with myself before I got ill. This set me to thinking and I asked other patients about their faiths and lives. I found that in many cases people�s beliefs, although acceptable to me, were being regarded by doctors as a symptom of an illness. They even consider laughter to be a bad sign. So the moral of this story is this - if you�re happy go with it and don�t let anyone spoil it. Everyone deserves to be happy. Regardless of how you look, you�re beautiful. What you�re worth is what you have inside. Learn to love yourself.

� Craig Brown

Reproduced with permission

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'YEARNIN FOR HOME'
by Kevin McCabe

I see the consultant today
Will she go on about how I feel
Or � will she make me happy
And lift the section
Without too much of an inspection
I find it difficult to understand a train of thought
Of thinking that deals with past things
I�ve remarked upon
I�ve talked about yin and yang, God and Satan,
Dark and light
Thinking I�ve had enough
I want to go home to my own flat
To sort out my own shit
I mean, say once you get over your initial paranoia
You get familiar with staff and patients
And your medication sorted
Then its time to go home and be yourself
Picking up the pieces and gluing them together
So they won�t break so easily the next time

� Kevin McCabe
Reproduced with permission

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'THE DAY MY DAD DIED'
by Sam Keddie

I remember when my dad died. I can still feel the coldness that was in the room. My two brothers were misbehaving then my mum said to me to go and tell Dad that George and Gordon wouldn�t going to get down from the top of the wardrobe. So I went to tell, I called out his name about three times but he wouldn�t wake up.

Hi body was cold, his lips were purple, his face and body were white. I went to tell mum that dad wouldn�t wake up and that he was cold. Mum went to the room and just stood still then started to scream.

I remember the doctor coming in and just pushing my mum out of the room. Then there were two men carrying a bed out of the room and my dad was lying on it with a white blanket over him. Then they took him downstairs.

Then they put him in a box, well that�s what I thought it was then and my little brother and I ran and jumped onto the box crying and saying �Don�t take daddy away, don�t take daddy away. We�ll be good, we promise if you don�t take daddy away.�

The lid closed and then he went into the big machine and dad never came out.

I only have my dad�s photos and that�s the only thing I have of him now. I was only six when he died and know that whatever I do or say my dad will always be looking over me.

I will always love my dad in my heart until I die.

� Sam Keddie
Reproduced with permission

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'FIRST TIMES - 2 Stories'
by Patrick Donnelly

GLUE

I remember well the first time I tried glue sniffing. I was thirteen years old and was with my cousin Lesley. Now, I didn�t know much about glue except that you poured it into a bag (a fitchie packet) and inhaled it and then you tripped. So I went into Lochee and bought some UHU and Bostik and went up to Thomson Park. We were relaxing having a fag and Lesley said,

�Come on then, git the glue out man.�

I pulled the glue out of my pocket and he seemed a little bit annoyed.

�What�s wrong?� I said.

�Well, for a start you�ve bought the wrong stuff.�

I looked at the tubes of glue and said,

�Are you sure?�

�I don�t even think you�ll get a headache from that!�

But that�s exactly what I got, a pounding headache. Then Ecky turned up and he had some Evo-stick, the real stuff.

We began to sniff the glue, it was a warm summer�s day so we lay on top of a wooden cable reel and sniffed all day long. Most of our trips were about girls we fancied and about the heat. We thought that the sun was getting too close to the earth and thought we were shrivelling up. Ecky was going brown and beginning to get dehydrated so we went up for George my mate who was eighteen and got him to get us a carry out. We sat up Camperdown with our bottles of Merrydown and cans of Tennants Lager.

We got quite wrecked and decided to go p the park to see the horses and the girls who were up at the play park. Angie my girlfriend was there and she was a wee bittie shocked at me for glue sniffing but she was okay eventually.<

I decided that it was a good day to sunbathe and I had on my shorts so I could strip off my Adidas trackie.

That was the first time I�d ever sniffed glue, got drunk and slept with a girl. It always stays with me because if I have a hard time or a bad time I just remember that day. Although my life has been unbearable there is always some form of escape from it.

GANJ

I was ecstatic. Eck was scoring some hash and he was going to give me toot of it. My first time, I was really over the moon as I�d heard so much about it. I really hoped it would affect me in the way it had been described to me. They hadn�t told me about side effects or the bad side of it though.

I went up to the swing park and waited for him. He came up late, about ten minutes late. I was swinging back and forth and jumped off the swing as he approached. I nearly knocked him over which was what I was trying to do. �Ha, ha�, he laughed.

�Did you get it?� I asked.

He said yes and I was pleased and went over to him, he was now sitting on the swings.

�Okay, spliff it up! I shouted with enthusiasm.

�I�ve got to build a joint first, it takes about five minutes.�

I waited, enthusing over every bit of fag he put in it. I was gibbering away ecstatically as he put the final piece of paper around it to bind it.

�I�ve finished it,� he said.

�Great!� I said.

He lit it and passed it to me. I puffed gingerly on it and inhaled it into my lungs. It was sweet tasting and had a kind of earthy perfume taste.

�What kinds that?� I asked.

�Red Afghani.�

�Wow!� I said, �Do they make it there?�

�Yeh.� he said. �They also make it in Morocco, Lebanon, Pakistan, South America, Columbia, Thailand. Anywhere there�s a hot climate it grows naturally and you can pick it in the street!�

I began to drift in a warm glowing feeling, my head was in the clouds. Then I felt sick.

� Patrick Donnelly
Reproduced with permission

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'HEAVEN'S NOT PERFECT'
by Tricia Wright

Gloria left her flat on the way to the plastic surgeon. The sky was a clear blue, there wasn�t a cloud in sight. Gloria didn�t notice the sky or the lovely cherry blossoms on the trees lining the pavement to the taxi rank.

Her mind was on what her new transformation would be like. She had signed up to have her nose changed, made smaller. She had kept her holiday time so there would be enough time for the bruising and scarring to heal.

She has been sent to a psychiatrist by the clinic and because she suffers heart disease and is overweight she has been advised against an operation. But, she�s made up her mind, she�s going to go through with it. Her nose has always been her biggest hate and she thought it was stopping her from getting a date. All her work mates were married or going out with someone.

Gloria worked in a residential home for people suffering from senile dementia. It was a rewarding job but very upsetting. Gloria would get attached to her patients, especially to one, a lady called Rose. Rose liked to be pampered and Gloria used to do her hair and put her make-up on.

One morning Gloria went to waken Rose but she found her dead. Gloria felt sad but Rose looked so peaceful, just like she was asleep, clutching her little teddy bear.

Gloria was shown to her room at the cosmetic surgery hospital by a nurse. She then found herself lying on an operating table. The doctor told her that after the anaesthetic she would be unconscious within seconds. Within seconds she was travelling along a long dark tunnel, it was as if she was being pulled along it by some force. At the end of the tunnel she saw a magnificent radiant light where people were standing around. She recognised some of them, her dad, friends, her school teacher. They had all died some time ago. A lady came to her with open arms. Gloria realised she must have died on the operating table and that this place she was now in was Heaven.

The lady hugged her and told her that she was her guardian angel and that she had died but it was not her time to stay in Heaven. A man and another woman came forward and greeted Gloria. They were her brother and sister who had died as babies. Her sister and brother and her guardian angel told Gloria never to fear being back in the material world as there were arms protecting her. Gloria�s sister looked just like her, she also had a large nose. Gloria thought to herself, if Heaven was made out to be so perfect why could people not choose their features? Her brother told her that Heaven wasn�t perfect and that he wanted to live in the material world as he didn�t want to have died, strangled by his umbilical cord.

Gloria was overwhelmed and she hugged him, she told him she could remember when he died. She saw a little white coffin lying in the living room but she didn�t really understand, she was only five then. It was so sad but she didn�t understand what death was as she was only five. Her aunty explained that he had gone back to where he�d come from which was very confusing for her. After that she was always watching her mum�s stomach to see if he�d gone back there again. The reason he and her sister had died was because their mother kept working all through their pregnancies and was lifting heavy furniture because the family needed the money. Maria was her sister�s name in Heaven. Her brother was called Josh. They told Gloria not to be afraid because they were watching out for her. They were also watching over their mother as she�d never had an easy life. Gloria�s dad had died of a heart attack and now in Heaven he had senile dementia. Gloria couldn�t understand why in Heaven he�d be senile when on earth he�d died of a heart attack. Gloria�s brother explained to her that their dad had always had trouble with his mind but had never gone for help but now in Heaven he was getting all the help he needed. Gloria hugged her dad and her dad said it�s nice to see you again Isobel. He�d gotten her mixed up with her cousin.

Gloria�s sister told her that Heaven is not perfect, even in Heaven people earn a living just like in the material world. There were hospitals, schools, hotels, shops and hairdressers and everything you would find in the material world. Gloria�s sister worked as a healer for children who passed over to Heaven. Her sister took her to show her where she worked, a place where children get healed when they die, it was like a fairytale castle out of Disneyland, only nicer. They opened the golden gates and she saw lions, tigers and alligators and she couldn�t believe they were playing with children. She gasped when she saw the wild animals playing with children. She couldn�t believe it, her sister told her not to be surprised, they get pretend meat in Heaven and every animal is wanted. They went into the building where there were little boys and girls playing harps and other instruments. There were lots of toys and pictures of the children�s families and friends. She saw two little girls whose picture she had recently seen in the paper after their death, they were having their hair brushed by angels and they looked very peaceful. There were lullabies being broadcast over speakers, Gloria was dumbfounded.

It was time for her to see her brother�s work place, he was a farmer for tropical fruits. He let her taste one of the cherries that covered the tree next to where they stood. It was simply delicious, the best she�d ever tasted.

She found herself back in her guardian angels arms, her angel and her sister told her that she had to go back to the material world because good care assistants are hard to find. Then she saw Rose waving at her and smiling to her and she knew she had to go back. Her sister gave her a pendant to put round her neck, it was a blue coloured stone. As she looked up into the sky she saw it was the same blue as the pendant. She felt herself falling from her guardian angels arms as if she was falling into space.

Suddenly she was back on the operating table, there was lots of noise round her and the doctors and nurses were shouting, she�s alive. They had resuscitated her. She looked for her pendant and found it round her neck.

Once she recovered from the anaesthetic and the heart attack it had brought on, the hospital phoned her to ask if she wanted to reschedule the appointment. She felt the pendant round her neck and decided that perhaps a big nose wasn�t really all that important, after all no-one was perfect, not even angels.

� Tricia Wright
Reproduced with permission

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'I'M ME'
by Rhona Hoggan

I am me, not you,
him, her, them.
Don�t mix me up.
Separate me.
See the differences.
I am separate.
I am me, not you
not him, her, them.
Don�t assume,
don�t say I�m her,
Give me consideration
in my own right.
It gets me angry
All my life I�ve had a problem,
Had to look for bolt cutters,
fight to be me,
No, I don�t have to be like my mother,
No I don�t, I�m me.
Is me not good enough?

'KITCHEN SURVIVAL'
by Jim Strachan

The house of my birth didn�t have a kitchen and none of the houses round about had a kitchen. We were lucky. We had two rooms; a bedroom and a living room and our own outside toilet. The living room was just that, with a cooker, a table, an armchair, two standy-up chairs, a fireplace, gas light, a bed and shoes. There always seemed to be shoes handy for mummy to throw at my two sisters and I to draw to our attention that we were breaching grown-up rules. Many years later my sisters spoke of their deep resentment that mum�s unerring accuracy seemed to disappear when she threw one at me.

When mummy went into hospital and died and we all split up I was taken in by my aunty. They had three rooms, a scullery and an inside toilet with a sink and real toilet paper. I grew to love these last two rooms - especially the scullery. The scullery was usually warm, two and sometimes three cooked meals a day came out of it and the washing-sink was big enough for me to have a sitty-doon bath for a number of years. Mind you the actual moving in process nearly killed me. I remember still the fear, the horror, the screams, the sobs, the pain of the near broken fingers as they prised them from railings on the stairs. You see there were inside stairs up to the actual closey and the walls were half-tiled and bonny painted; then there were two big heavy swing doors wi' coloured-glass scary-panels; the closey itself had more tiles and more paint and a light which seemed to suffocate me with its seemingly gloomy, scary dimness; more stairs with a window on the middle landing with a coloured-glass-scary-border; and there were iron railings on these stairs fashioned into scary shapes. I grew to love that house but I sobbed off-and-on for days at the start.

My Granny had what the grown-ups called "two rooms and a kitchen". She also had a bathroom with a real bath - no hot water mind you but a real bath. What they called a kitchen was not a kitchen. It was a cook-room and bakehouse full of marvellous smells. It was a steamy laundry room. It was a mouth-watering, tummy-bursting eating room. It was a wildlife sanctuary for Tiger the cat, mice (the coal cupboard usually had at least one nest on the go despite the cheesy mousetraps and Tiger), beetles, forkie-tailies and a whole variety of what were just called "beasties" - not to mention the odd fly and bluebottle which avoided the fly-paper and Granny's rolled up newspaper, the occasional wasp, bee or moth. And do you believe that I cannot remember any of us having a "sair belly" as we called it then - food poisoning they call it now - except when we ate too much. It was a casualty department full of sure-fire cures like Germolene and Vicks and Yellow Ointment which seemed to sort everything from bruises to botulism, sticky plesters, bandages made of old sheets torn into strips, hard and gentle rubs on the sair bits, kisses on the sair bits, soothing hair ruffling and, most healing of all, Granny's Camphoretted Cuddle (Grannies in them days always smelt of mothballs). It was a family parliament, a "closey" parliament, a street parliament, a family counselling centre and a family planning centre. It was also what the Government and Health Services now spend millions on trying to reproduce. In that room over the years love and common-sense were used to help with bereavements, health problems, husband problems, wife problems, boyfriend problems, girlfriend problems, work problems, no-work problems, drink problems, depression, neighbour problems, etc., etc. So, one thing it definitely wasn�t was what the Housing, the estate agents and the general population now describe as a kitchen.

� Jim Strachan
Reproduced with permission

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'D�J� VU'
by Mandy Cummings

People have been mentionin� deja-vous
Now a� know I�m feelin it too!
I wiz in ma bedroom a minute ago
Writin an lettin ma pencil flow
When all o� a sudden it came to me
A fuzzy, hazy, weird memory.

Like a�ve been here before
Jist ootside the kitchen door
On thon bench wi the lights
A familiar, comfortin sight
A place a�ve visited wi friends
Where joy n laughter never ends
This magical place called Moniack Mhor
Makes me wish eh could live here ever more.

� Mandy Cummings
Reproduced with permission

'A DOG ON THE LOOSE IN THE CAIRD HALL'
by Andy McGuinness

Ah, c�mon c�mon. Trees, trees! Where�s all the trees? I�m burstin. Need a tree. Need a wee, help, help. If I just run around a wee bit that might help. Where�s all the trees went? What�s that over there? They look like trees. Those big concrete pillars. Well, they look like trees to me. I don�t care, I�m going. I�m going, hurry, hurry.

Bruno bolted like lightning up those stairs that ascended to the huge concrete trees.

Just a quick sniff to check for any pee-mails.

With a swift hoick of his left rear leg, Bruno gave the base of the huge stone tree a good watering.

Ah, ah, ah! That wiz magic, says he, now extremely relieved and feeling more comfortable.

The pillars stood like sentries and behind them, the huge doors agape and welcoming, invited Bruno�s curiosity.

What�s this in here? he wonders.

Sausages. I smell sausages. Sniff, sniff, sniff, sniff, sniff. Where�s the sausages? Mmm, sausages � my favourite. Sniff, sniff, sniff, sniff, sniff.

Bruno invites himself inside and scans the scene with his acute smelling sense. He finds himself in the foyer of the cathedral-like building and scans its vastness. Sniff, sniff, sniff, sniff and in he goes. All of the internal doors are opened and staff are few to be seen. The cleaners have just finished the vacuuming of the plush interior carpets. The place smells carpety and of air freshener and polish.

I can still smell sausages somewhere. Where? Where�s the sausages? Sniff, sniff.

Bruno is now inside the main house of the Caird Hall. He darts in and out between the rows and rows of seating. Running down the centre aisle, sniffing, searching, marking his territory again and again. He jumps up on to the main stage, scanning, pacing, sniffing, pishing. Down again, among the seats, up and down the aisle, in and out of the seat rows. Sniffity, sniff, sniff. He smells the sausages even more now. Sniff, sniff, snort, slobber.

Ay yes! Sausage. He finds the remains of half a hot dog and just as he�s about to sink his fangs into this luscious treat �

�Right you! Getthefuckouttathere! Go on � GIT!�

He�s chased away by the security staff. Sausageless, he vacates the premises and as he reaches the external stairs, he cocks his leg and showers the pillar again.

Dinnae think much o this Caird Hall place, he frowns. Now, where�s my dad? Students and teenagers chilled out on the steps, eating their Macdonalds takeaways. The burly security man amuses them as he tried to shoo the agile Bruno from the regal premises. Bruno himself almost seemed to grin as he trots briskly, but with an ease, his tongue lolling from the side of his gob. The tubby security man trying to run, short of breath, makes the students and young people laugh and heckle.

�Look at that dog, it�s been in the Caird Hall.�

�Check Moby Dick there, trying tae catch it.�

�You couldnae catch it if you tried, fatso.�

The young people mock him. He manages to get only as far as the main entrance and shut the door as Bruno trots out.

After his tinkle against a pillar, Bruno gets clapped and stroked and petted by some of the young people. He is even rewarded with a piece of quarter-pounder from one of the young guys � �For gein us a laugh wee doag � there you go, pal.�

Bruno chomps ecstatically on the cheeseburger � gherkins and all. The security man sticks his head out of the door and warns the young people,

�Get yer dog on a lead. There�s no dogs allowed in here, so keep it under control.�

�It�s no even oor doag so shut it, barrel-belly!� the students retaliate.

�Don�t you be cheeky, or I�ll move you,� says the security man and before he finishes his sentence, Bruno has trotted off down the stairs and proceeded to squat down and deposit his sentiments to the doorman, right there on the City Square slabs.

�Ha, ha fat bastard. Get cleanin up yer shit,� says one of the boys.

Bruno skips away unconcerned, to find his master. The students get up to leave, still in fits of laughter. The security man goes back inside the Caird Hall to find himself a shovel.

One of the students points to a sign and laughs as he read it out loud �

�Do not feed the pigeons,� it said. ��or the dogs!� he laughed, �look what he�s done.�

� Andy McGuinness