The veil is a "choice"?

In a recent vote in France, the Burka, the Muslim veil, was banned in public places in an astonishing majority of 336-1. This is obviously a controversial matter and some worry and claim that this move is unconstitutional as many wear the veil "out of choice".

I take serious issue at the use of the word "choice" here, as if, presented with all the facts since birth, presented with every religious world view, every explanation for who we are, evolutionary theory, intelligent design, Allah, Jesus, Buddha, and the tooth fairy - as if, having being presented with ALL the facts and possible avenues of religious belief, these women have "chosen" Islam and subsequently the veil.

Yes, within the religious framework that they believe in, they have made a choice. But that's not a genuine choice by any means. Faith wasn't introduced to these women when they were critically-minded adults free to make their own choice. It was, rather, introduced to them as it was to the overwhelming majority of people who practise any faith, at a very young age - an age when you are still "Santa-elligible" (Stanhope).

Put simply, I doubt there is an equal number of atheists wandering around Paris wearing a niqab as there are Muslim women (perhaps if there were then we would have cause to reconsider the constitutionality of the recent vote). That's because, free of any religious influence or doctrine, almost without exception, NO man or women would choose to hide his or her face in public, perhaps with the exception of the late great Michael Jackson and that chick whose face was ripped off by a monkey last year.

So again, what "choice" has been made? At best, a choice made under the heavy influence of doctrine introduced when they had no choice. I've learnt Japanese to a decent level, so I can choose to speak Japanese if I want to. But that does not therefore imply that everyone in England is speaking English out of "choice". Nothing introduced to you at birth is.

And finally as to the constitutionality of this policy; you'll note earlier I (very deliberately) wrote "NO man or women would choose to hide his or her face in public". Men and women. If this were truly a matter of constitution, the French vote would have included a ruling over men wearing veils as well. But it didn't precisely because it is in reaction, not to a civil convention, but rather to a religious practice that, almost a priori, treats women differently.

If there were a belief that women ought to stay in doors (I'm sure some cult somewhere might believe that), having a vote on whether or not women should follow this law out of choice would simply be treating the symptoms and not the cause. The real issue here is the differentiation between men a women, which is, of course, unconstitutional.

As open-minded as I wish I could be, I just can't accept religious faith as an acceptable basis for creating one set of rules for men and another for women, even if those rules are out of "choice". I can accept biological reasons, but not faith-based reasoning (isn't that an oxymoron?) introduced from birth.

If the French wanted to be rid of the veil in a more agreeable fashion, they should ban the introduction of religion before the age of consent, which IS unconstitutional. Then, out of real choice, I'm sure you would see the number of veils being worn reduced to almost zero within a generation.

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These are my opinions: I'm open to discussion, just don't get all offended just because I criticise something that's precious to you. It's not precious to me. I'm not sure why. Blame God for making me an atheist.

Comedy Progress

The best of intentions


Having been gigging in Tokyo for around a year, I was struck by how few opportunities there were to perform in a city as large as The Big Toke. Not only that, but it seemed that the performance conditions were a little stifling; there was a heap of potential talent that couldn't move up as there were already enough regulars doing well, and so the newbies would perform 3 minutes time and time again without much potential to move upwards. That's not a criticism of the way things were run - it's just a logical necessity that, given the small number of comedy nights and the sheer number of acts, finding enough stage time to get them all progressing quickly just won't happen.


I personally felt a bit restricted, as my act just doesn't translate into a 3 minute "bit". My comedy "bits" (juvenile chuckle) meander and last a long time, and often reference back to a previous bit of material. But in 3 minutes, there's no "previous" to refer back to. You're on, you're off.


As such, I found myself wanting to get another gig going in Tokyo, just to spread the acts around, give people more time on stage, and thus help to end what, appeared to me, to be a kind of stagnating swamp of talent going to waste. I got chatting to a friend, and we both agreed that we wanted people to be on stage more often doing a bit longer, so we set about finding a venue, spurred on by an encouraging email from the organisers of the current comedy events which said "Feel free to go ahead and organise your own comedy nights." And verily, we did...


The Pink Cow

The search for a venue didn't take long. Scouring the gaijin papers and magazines for venues that seemed to frequently hold intriguing events, one name kept popping up again and again: The Pink Cow. It was holding photography nights, art nights, sketch classes, movie nights; everything except a comedy night. I sent Traci (the owner, one of the most creative, helpful, artistic and genuine people I've ever met, and a human answer to renewable energy - she never seems to stop) an email, and within two days there was an answer; a resounding, very positive "Yes, let's make this happen."

Given the horror stories we'd heard about not being able to find venues ("You'll be lucky if you find someone who's willing to rent out some gravel for you to perform on" someone almost said to me once), I was surprised that we got such a positive response, and so quickly. And on top of that, the venue was a real surprise - big, brimming with atmosphere - the kind of place that would get created if Hunter S. Thompson got together with Janis Joplin.... or something. The shape of the place is sometimes problematic in terms of line of sight for the stage, but nonetheless, it's a feel-good venue that's good for comedy.

Was it something I said?

I won't go into details here, because I'm nice, but sufficed to say, no sooner had we secured a venue and let everyone in the comedic community (which doesn't exist - a community requires at least more than ONE component) know about what we were doing, than we started getting bizarre trickles of feedback from performers currently on the scene. Established acts, who we expected would be thrilled at having a new opportunity to try out their stuff, told us they wouldn't perform at the show. Pressure was coming from somewhere higher up, persuading them not to perform at our show, and it was working.

We had meetings with the relevant people (the organisers of the other comedy nights who were exerting the pressure on other acts not to perform), who, after hearing our motives and goals, totally retracted their somewhat monopolistic attitude, only for us to have another meeting later on where this retraction was retracted, without any logical reason. It was confusing to say the least. But then finally, after we had one show under our belt, an email was sent out to, I have no doubt, every act currently performing on the circuit, and it was bad. By bad I mean it was a dirty play, but also in terms of a piece of writing it was terrible; self-contradictory to the point of hilarity, while also achieving a new low in below-the-belt, immature pettiness. I was extremely saddened, frustrated (I couldn't reply in kind as it was THEIR mailing list) and utterly disappointed.

I have delt with about 40-50 comedy promoters in the past. They have all been supportive of acts, but also of each other's venues, and of the idea of a comedy "scene" rather than some sort of ridiculous turf warfare. Any one of them over here in Tokyo would have created a fantastic comedy community by now, but instead the potential fate of any aspiring act in this massive, very massive city, is currently in the hands of spoilt children in adult costumes. It's genuinely heart-breaking to see something as great as comedy being reduced to territorial battles and name-calling. What first started out as a perfectly innocent idea between friends fast became an unnecessary chore as we tried to focus on getting the night organised while simultaneously handling the irrelevant nuisance created by people who just have no idea.

Bah... balls to them!

Well, despite the unwanted distraction of a couple of poo-pooers, the night went ahead, and we are now currently 3 shows in. Ticket sales have been good, and have actually gone up from the first show, which is a great thing. I've heard that the third show is always the indicator of how things are going, and if that is so, then our show has got some serious legs on it.

But most importantly, more than ticket sales which mean nothing (Dane Cook can fill stadiums, whereas Stewart Lee goes for intimate bar gigs), we've given more stage time to newer acts, giving them a chance to develop. Some acts who were originally taking notes on stage, are now getting on and performing longer than they did before and with no notes at all. That's thanks to having an extra opportunity to perform, at a decent venue, with a good crowd.

And if we made just one act better, then all of the stress and unnecessary bad-mouthing was worth it. So, as much as I'd like to pat myself on the back for sticking this through, it's the acts you have to give it up to, because without them, there's no show. There's no territory, no "big fish" in a "small pond", and there's certainly no town that's too small for the both of us. There're only two sides to this; the people behind the microphone and the audience.

Peace!

Tokyo Outlaw Podcast #2

Here's the podcast for 24th April, covering Muhammed's depiction on South Park, death by firing squad, and how adultery can apparently cause earthquakes... I know.

http://www.ourmedia.org/media/tokyo-outlaw-podcast-24th-april

My first podcast

In a desire to create new current-affairs material for my stand up gigs, I'm committing myself to creating new podcasts based on what's been going on in the news.

Here's the first one: Tokyo Outlaw Podcast - 18th April

Enjoy!

A quick trip to Kyoto

Getting there

First of all, if you can get the train, take it!! This may be an expensive option, but if you're travelling from Tokyo as I was, then it's a much better option. A bus from Tokyo to Kyoto's main station takes around 8 hours. Potentially pleasant if you go by day, if you go by night there's nothing to see, and depending on which company you use, you may end up stopping upwards of 4 or 5 times, which is totally unecessary given the length of the journey. Especially on an overnight bus where the point is that most of those travelling wish to get a bit of shut eye before arriving in "Asia's most beautiful city" (Lonely Planet). Being stopped, having announcements blurted out and the bright lights turned on every hour meant that we arrived at 6am in Kyoto rather tired and pretty sure that we'd seen more service stations than there were temples in Japan's old capital.

Arrival

Remember, Japan is more often than not very rigid about rules, times, and schedules. Our check in time was 4pm and so, arriving on the overnight bus at 6am as we did, we had nowhere to crash or rest until the afternoon. Given the the amount of sleep we'd had (or lack thereof), this meant we spent our first day rather bleary-eyed, relying on a continuous stream of coffee to keep us going. So always make sure your check-in time is compatable with your arrival, otherwise you may find yourself carting your luggage around in the cold!

Day 1
At around 8am, after having breakfast and staving off the cold in a nearby "World of Coffee", we eventually braved the still-chilly morning air and walked the 15 minutes from near our guesthouse to 銀閣寺・ginkakuji - The Silver Temple (500￥). Not surprisingly in a country that's given us a red light district that still retains the name of its original theatrical purpose, Kabukicho (a Kabuki theatre was intended for the area, and even before that, a duck sanctuary), the Silver Temple also follows this tradition: there's nothing silver about it, though due to a now ancient desire to put silver on it, the temple retains its name.

As is often the case with temples in Kyoto, the gardens surrounding the temple were almost a rival to the buildings in the temple compound themselves. There were exquisite rock gardens and lots of trees that would satisfy anyone's "I want to see a Japanese-style tree" wishes. The temple was also very beautiful, though rather plain and reserved in comparison to some of the other temples in Kyoto.

After that we got the bus to the far west part of town and ended up at 天龍寺・tenryuuji (600￥ for temple and garden grounds). This was a much larger complex than ginkakuji, including many apparently residential temple buildings leading up to the main drag. Again, the gardens stole the show, and offered a good view of the temple anyway which, from the inside, was really just a collection of rooms that you couldn't go into. Certainly viewed from a slightly elevated walk, and seen through swaying trees, the temple dons a serenity far better appreciated than when inside.

To bring in Christmas Day, we ended up at around 11pm at a yakitori restaurant (grilled bits and bobs on sticks). It only had a few locals in it and they greeted us so warmly. Quite a different reception from a few days earlier when I had tried to get myself and my brother into a similar local place in Tokyo and was given the "da-me" (NO!) sign by the owner. Strangely enough, we ended up finding out that the yakitori restaurant owner used to live in a flat about two houses down from me in London, and that we'd both been living there at the same time. Such a huge coincidence made the evening, for whatever reason, a little more Christmassy.

Day 2

We finally checked in the day before at around 5pm, and ended up going to bed pretty early. Waking up the next day, it was off to 金閣寺・kinkakuji (The Golden Temple - be careful with the pronunciation!). Unlike ginkakuji, this temple does actually live up to its name and is entirely covered in gold (although cheaper to enter, only 300￥). Arriving on a sunny afternoon, the whole temple was shining to the extent that it hurt to look at it. Sitting by the edge of the lake on stilts, the temple is at once grandiose but also extraordinarily peaceful and humble, which is befitting of the many contradictions you'll come to recognise throughout Japanse culture and daily life the longer you stay over here.

There is a hill nearby which you can climb called 大文字・daimonji (essentially just "large character"), which has a the kanji for "large" coating the surface of one side of the hill. From there you can get a relatively good view of Kyoto. Unfortunately we didn't have much time so we pressed on back into the centre of town.

We got the bus (very convenient and easy to use; a refreshing change from train-dependent Tokyo) and went into a more modern area just south of the Imperial Grounds. The Imperial Grounds are also worth a visit, hidden behind gargantuan walls and almost hidden away in the middle of a vast park. Again, rather hurriedly we sped on southwards and ended up in the International Manga Museum (500￥). This was a rather confusing place as the museum was housed in a very old building that used to be a highly renowned school. As such, half of the Manga Museum was dedicated to exhibitions relating to the school rather than manga, which was a little confusing and almost disappointing, but the whole place was so curiously warming and intriguing that it didn't really matter. I haven't yet been to a manga museum in Tokyo (is there one?... there must be), but I imagine it would be a bit better than the one in Kyoto, just because it didn't know whether to fully embrace its modern theme, or dwell on Kyoto's past. Still, it's well worth a visit if you have some time to kill while you're in the centre of the city as it's a very unique little place.

Eventually we ended up in Nishiki Market, a huge and somewhat labyrinthine indoor network of little streets intersecting each other, cram-packed with good souvenir potential, as well as larger department stores and your old favourites like HMV, and good old purikura parlours. When you emerge from Nishiki market, if you aim for the south side, you'll end up on a long, busy shopping street (Shijo-dori) with far more pricier fare - think "Kyoto's Oxford Street". It was quite a nice place to stroll along, and to see some of the richer Kyoto-ites doing their thing. Perhaps at Christmas time it was a little over-crowded, but it all added to the bustle without descending into Tokyo levels of sardine-like suffering.

If you follow the shopping street eastwards, eventually they will lead you over a river and into an area called Gion. While the west side of the river is very reminiscent of some of the more modern, trendy parts of Tokyo, Gion's architecture is straight out of any tourist's fantasy. One look at the buildings once you've snaked down a couple of back streets, and it's instantly recognisable as Japan. Wooden sliding doors, creaky beams, stone sculptures running alongside rivers lined with Japanese trees; this is the little area you secretly hoped all of Japan would be like before you stepped off the plane. Get there just after midday and you might just see a geisha or two stepping in and out of the (very expensive) restaurants, looking for a potential customer who might want to burn some money on traditional Japanese entertainment.

As nice as it was to walk around here (I could have done for hours) it was very pricey, and so we headed back to the west side of the river again, and back towards Nishiki market on Shijo-dori. Here we ate our Christmas dinner at an izakaya. It wasn't at all traditional (in the English sense), but then if you waste time looking for a "Traditional English Christmas dinner" when you're in Kyoto, you may as well not have come in the first place! So we ended up eating a seafood nabe (simmering soupy hot pot type dish) and some raw horse meat. Not a brussel sprout in sight!

Day 3

A bit tired from lots of walking and a bit of drinking, we woke up a bit late, made our way to the train station to go to Nara Deer Park. But with time pressing and money a little low, we changed our mind at the last minute and ended up back in central Kyoto. This was quite lucky as we then had more time to spend at 清水寺・kiyomizudera which was a great place to end the trip on.

Again, easy to get to and easy to find as long as you're armed with a bus map and a semi-decent sense of direction, Kiyomizudera is a beautiful and surprsingly large temple complex. Walking up a very gradual incline, you pass up and through a small village entirely comprised of tourist-oriented shops. These sell everything from the exquisitely beautiful to the outrageously tacky. There are often geisha walking around here too, although be careful; many of them aren't the real deal and are just there for show. Nevertheless, surrounded by the ornate temple buildings, one is almost tempted to ignore the fact that these "geisha" may be just a con for the tourists, as they are still an absolute wonder to look at.

To try and describe kiyomizudera is somewhat futile. If you're the kind of person that makes their mind up based on other people's blogs, then you'd probably rather vegetate in front of your computer a while longer instead of going to the temple to see it. And if you're someone who likes to make up their mind for themselves, well... you'll probably end up going anyway. So all I'll say is that it was calming, tranquil (even with the tourist buzz) and offered a great view of Kyoto from the wooden platform jutting out from the hillside, supported by old and sturdy wooden beams. If you go to one temple in Kyoto, I'd be tempted to say that that one is the one to go to; but who knows what other hidden treasures I may have missed? It certainly managed to generate an atmosphere, in spite of the crowds, that seemed befitting of its description as "Japan's most revered temple."

After that, we slowly wandered down the hillside past all the tourist shops (there's even a Studio Ghibli store on the way, where you can buy figurines from one of Japan's most famous anime creators, Miyazaki Hayao), we eventually ended up back in the centre of town. Kyoto is small enough for that to be a walkable distance (about 25 minutes), but it was extremely cold so we got the bus and ended up a few minutes later at a TGI Fridays. Not terribly Japanese, but with an overnight, sleepless journey ahead of us we figured it was best to stock up on fatty stodge for the next 9 hours. Once again, sprung by an odd coincidence, our waitress at TGIs had been in the yakitori restaurant two nights earlier and had overheard my conversation with the owner who had lived in London. We hadn't noticed her, but she remembered us. I hope it won't take a strange coincidence for me to find those places again.

Bus Back

And so we ended up at the bus station just outside the main train station, got on, and 8 hours later arrived sleep-deprived and stiff in Tokyo, again, having stopped 5 or 6 times. With some more money saved, it'll definitely be the train next time.

大茶会 - Big Tea... Meeting

I recently had the pleasure of going to Hamarikyuu Park (浜離宮公園) in central Tokyo to attend the Tokyo Grand Tea Ceremony. For me, tea has always been a TV kind of beverage; something to be enjoyed while watching Countdown, Neighbours, or any other suitably naff daytime TV show. The idea that it could somehow be imbued with more etiquette than receiving a knighthood, and more culture than a factory full of macriobiotic yoghurt... well... I was intrigued.

The Setting

Firstly, the setting was quite beautiful. It was, nevertheless, a park in the middle of central Tokyo, and so no matter how stunning the scenery was, it was always dominated by the shadows of Tokyo's skyscrapers. I guess having been in Tokyo for a year now, my brain has come to automatically filter out such background concrete noise, so for me Hamarikyuu Park was quite a treat. It only takes a few minutes' walk into the park for the traffic noise to be gradually filtered out by the sound of wind in the trees, and the delicate waves of the many lakes. Over many of the lakes there were beautiful wooden bridges, one of which is made from the wood of trees over 300 years old.

While walking through the park, one can easily stumble across very quaint looking tea-houses. Due to various unfortunate circumstances (mainly earthquakes and air raids) none of them are actually as old as they look, as most were reconstructed in the latter half of the 20th century. But they are still impressive, and a hark back to a more traditional Japan; a refreshing change from the pachinko parlours and game centres that pack the city centre.

Throughout the day, walking gracefully round the lakes were geisha (芸者), shuffling around on their delicate shoes like some sort of exotic bird. They would often stop to have their pictures taken, but also seemed to spend a lot of time doing their typical job, that is to say, talking to very rich-looking Japanese businessmen and laughing a lot at pretty much anything they said. Along with the traditional park clashing with its urban surroundings, the sight of a cultural icon (the geisha) giggling ladylike at a besuited yuppie busy doing deals on his multifunctional cell phone was a very jarring image indeed.

The Ceremony

Sitting with my flatmate along with about 30 other foreigners, the intricacies of Japanese Tea ceremony were (rather briskly) explained to us by a somewhat feisty American girl in a Kimono. As was typical of the day, and of life in Tokyo, her loud voice, casual language and "Isn't this AWESOME!" attitude seemed to somewhat clash with the humble, quiet, refined sensei at her side. Still, she did very well at translating the honorific-laden language of the Sadou/tea ceremony (茶道) teacher.

We watched someone playing "the host" making the tea with a variety of beautiful, yet simple, instruments, including a bamboo-brush which she meticulously inspected, before delicately wetting it with warm water. She then used it to mix the green tea in bowls, creating something that more closely resembled green shaving foam than the tea most Westerners would have had in mind. Wetting the brush beforehand prevents any of the bamboo strands from snapping into the tea.

The tea was then handed to the "guests" as well as to those in the audience. The bowls, sensei explained, were handed to us with the most important/beautiful part of the bowl facing us. We were then advised to briefly appreciate the bowl, before rotating it clockwise a little, twice, using our right hand. This is to ensure that we didn't drink from the most important part of the bowl, which would have been a great offense.

By this point we had already eaten some sweets typical to the occasion. 茶道 always involves sweets, and these are always made or prepared with the guests in mind. As the majority of us were foreigners and Halloween was approaching, our sweets were fashioned into the shapes of little Halloween pumpkins. They were very oishii!

I'm sure, were one to really try to understand the intricacies of tea ceremony, it would take months, if not years to fully appreciate every little detail, every nuance. But this was just a brief introduction, so the importance of how to hold the bowls being explained, we drank and then the mini-lecture was over. Suitably relaxed and feeling rather cultured, my flatmate and I set off around the park to see what else was happening.

Principles of the Ceremony

In England this might just involve, "One spoon or two?" but in Japan, as was explained to us, there is a deep philosophical basis to tea ceremony.

Undoubtedly the most important concept behind tea ceremony (and Japanese society itself) is wa-kei-sei-jaku, meaning "Harmony, Reverential Respect, Purity, and Tranquility." Harmony is achieved through both hosts and guests learning and knowing as much about tea ceremony as possible, so that they can both play their parts well, producing a harmonious and mutual experience during the ceremony.

Kei/Respect is shown through the host's choice of instruments when making the tea.

Sei/Purity is achieved through the washing of the implements as well as in the separate consumption of the sweet and tea (i.e. a Japanese person will never ask you "One lump or two?"... there are NO lumps!)

Jaku/Tranquility comes from the lack of unnecessarily showy items or actions during the ceremony. It also comes from the appreciation of things being natural, or unaltered.

Finally, another governing principle in tea ceremony, and one which I particularly liked, was the concept of ichi-go ichi-e, meaning that these guests, with these instruments, in this environment will never meet again. Of course they will meet, but it can never be the same as any other time; each moment is fleeting and transient. And so there's a real sense of enjoyment in the ceremony, because the honus is on enjoying this one time as much as you can. Again, allowing this principle to be applied in your life, not just in the tea ceremony, is another Japanese trait that I like, though sadly it is hard to see in action in Tokyo.

綺麗な音楽 - Sweet Music!

Before leaving, we sat down to watch some music. All I can say is that I was blown away by its beauty, which I was in no way prepared for. Again, miles and miles of concrete were lifted from my mind as I listened to each intricate note being played. When the wind instruments began to play, I could almost feel a breeze on my face. Once again I was reminded of the peculiarity of the jarring elements that conspired to bring this event together. The entire day made me feel nostalgic for a time and place I have never seen, and this feeling was made all the more potent by an awareness of where I was and where I would soon be once I left this small, but beautiful park.

Feeling relaxed, happy, and refreshed, my friend and I left the park to face once more the neon throng of Tokyo.

鴻池朋子の展覧会に行ったの意見

　　　　　　　　　　　　　

最近私はメトロポリスマガジンのなかに鴻池朋子について記事を読みました。急に私は感動させれた。彼女の絵は日本ぽいじゃなくて、本当にぺーガンの絵みたいだと思った。いつのまにか私は彼女の展覧会にいた。

メトロポリスの中で鴻池の絵はすごく感動する事だけど、意外に実物は写真よりすごかった。でも彼女の展覧会は絵しかないという事じゃなくて、彫刻もあって、ビデオも作られた。五感は全部生きるようになった。

最初ところはお客が歩いて綺麗な襖絵通り抜けって、たくさんの鉛筆で書いた絵がある空間に入ります。この絵は世界の始めると世界の終わる時を見せっています。その絵の話は危険をはらんだみたいけど、かわいいな「ミミオ」と呼ぶカラクターで教えられた。そうしたら絵を見るところで怖い感じがあっても、安心のもある。

絵を見ているところで、頭の上で大きい彫刻がある。その彫刻はおかしい事はおかしいですけど、すごく面白かった。土地と人と動物で、朋子は全部一緒にしたんだ。

ただ一つの絵を見さえすれば、たくさんのテーマにすいて考えさせてくれる。たくさんの絵には人間とオオカミは一緒に混合して、新しい動物ぽいです。半分は人間で、半分オオカミだ。そうしたら絵を見る様は、環境と人間の戦うという事にすいて考えさせてくれる。

ある絵の中が森の中央を見せる。しかし、絵の背景の中には大きくて、前兆させる人間が出来た建物が見える。そうしたら、絵を見た人がその森は直ぐに無くなるのが分かるようになる。

　　　　　　　　　　　　　

実は私は鴻池の展覧会でぶらぶら歩いている時に私は彼女の絵がウィリアムブレークの絵と似ている事に気がついた。ある絵は宗教のテーマがある。「World of Wonder」という書いた物は本の中で世界が作られているのを見せている。その本の中には結局は人間の怖さのせいで宗教が作られた。絵の上で「From fear, comes belief」と書かれていた。でもその絵には人が宗教を作ったにもかかわらず、宗教の力がある雲が人より強そう。ウィリアムブレークも同じテーマについて詩を書いて、絵を書いた。人間の考えから神様と宗教など作られたけど、だんだん宗教は人間より強くなる。結局は人間は宗教の使い物になってしまう。でも当面の議題からそれる。

私のみるところで鴻池の一番大事なテーマは私達は子供として自分の生活を見て、楽しみにするのです。彼女の展覧会の中で歩いている事は本当にアデゥベンチャアーみたい。ある時が楽しくて、面白いけど、ある時も怖くて不思議です。時々私は少し「不思議の国のアリス」という感じがあった。実は鴻池さんは「生まれた時から、想像力はひとつも年をとれない。いままでも人間は子供だ。」と書いた。

彼女は自分の絵を見た人が外に出かけて、たくさんの経験の種類を取って欲しい。私達は人生が一つしかがないんですから、時間を勿体無いという事はだめだ。もし怖さのせいであなたの生活のつまらなさは静かな湖面似ていたら、自分で外に行って、湖面を波立つほうがいい。鴻池さんのおかげで私は自分にそういう事をするの約束が出来ますよ！