When a story was made
Talking about “Absurdity” was in style among young people of Japan in the later half sixties, It might have been from the influence of Jean-Paul-Sartre and Albert -Camus or Samuel-Becket.

Actually I was not interested in” Absurdity” deeply in those days. But I couldn't help thinking about it since I've had a strange experience just five years ago. It happened on the way of coming to my house by my motorcycle late at night.

A car with one broken headlight passed though my motorcycle. Soon, the next car came through me. But again the car had one broken headlight! “What a coincidence!!” I said to myself. Then I saw a third car was coming toward to me. I screamed! “It's impossible!! ” Again and again the car had one broken head light. I felt my heart beating with excitement. Can't you say, it is only coincidence?

AS soon as I arrived to my house I calculate the probability what happen to me. It was from one to one million to one to one billion at least. Can you imagine it?

I had been thinking about this strange experience for several months. One day the answer came to me without notice. I found that it was not special experience, but one of the common incident of every day life.

They say that it was real “Absurdity “when the Tsunami attacked East Japan in 3.11. But I ca insist to say that there is no difference between the disaster and our usual every day life.

When I was in the train, I looked around people who happened to be there with me. In an instant I recognized that it would never be again the same as this situation. Don't you think that this is real Absurd accident, do you?

If you could cut off a moment of the world you call “Now “, and you looked at the cross section of it, you could find every thing isolated each other and had no meaning. There would be no room to bone a piece of Poem or Story there. We are all thrown in a world of “Absurdity “.

We wouldn't last a day without find the meaning of this world. So we make our Poem or Story to make reason of this world and our life with every effort.

To make my sculpture may be a one of those Story.


Time inside of I
Have you ever had a correct answer about a question What is "TIME"? No scientist, philosopher nor religionist may have clear answer about it.
"TIME" is always wiser than us, because our life is under the control of it. It's impossible for us to overcome it, and you still remain unconciousness. You would rearize the meaning of your deeds after you have done them, and at the sometime you would recognized that you have unknown urges of yourself. I wonder where these urges come from? Judah must have known that he was Judah after he betrayed Jesus Christ.

And also King Oedipus stabbed his eyes with his knife after he knew the truth of his destny. I think it's a real tragedy for you that you can never know who you are befor you have done something significant.
-"Time Will Tell"- You would remain as "Nowhere Man" in this world, if you did nothig at all. I'm sure that "TIME" is another name of GOD. So that "TIME" provide wisdome and is so incredibly cruel at tha some time, and I think that must be the character of GOD.

Although making my sculputurs doesn't have such a fatel meaning as the deeds of Judah or Oedipus, but it is a real deed in my eyes. My sculpturs also help me to find myself and consist of finding something flawed and improving or changing it for the better.

Mostly I try to erase the flawed with a little modification, but sometimes I can't. Soon the familiar vois of "TIME" tells me that I need to change my work from the foundation.
All the more, when I couldn't do it myself I wait for the voice with ptienc.
Before long, it says that the work doea not have any chance to come in to existence at all! I can't do anythig but to obey it with no doubt in my minde, and break my work down without hesitation. And more and more I start to listn to the voice. It whispers "First of all" very softly "The problem is nothing but the existence of yourself!"

Nothig is more difficult in this world than to listen  and obey the voice of "TIME". Because the more serious the ploblem is, the softer the voice is.
So you should be in sensitive awareness, in the still of the night.

My works are the result of my deeds,  and I realize their forms are the substitutes of "I", and I can't do anything but accept it,not knowing if it's good or not. After all, it's not "I" but "TIME" deep inside of "I" to make decisions. For it's only "TIME" that I can rely on.

I had a dream, a flower was blooming beautifully. A butterfly came flying from nowhere, and danced on the flower… At that instant I recognized that flowers had secret intention.

I thought when I wake up “If flower had no secret intention, there would be no flower in this world ”....... I used to think, looking up at an old big tree “Oh tree...Haw calm and peaceful you are!” But I was misunderstanding all I saw. I was only seeing the surface of substance.

“Not only man but all existence in this world have unknown “Will” to live hiding deep inside” said Schopenhauer.... I thought it's true.

Memento mori
That was my second visit to India since thirty years ago. I had been longing to come once again.
Benares is a sacred place for Hinduism. Many people were bathing in the water of Ganges. I saw a column of smoke by the river. It was a crematory. I walked toward the smoke. And I found a dead body burning on the logs. It made me fear, but I stared for a long time.

At night I could not sleep on the bed thinking who was that man lying on the burning logs. And then one word came to my mind “Katharsis”!! People of ancient Greek liked to see “Tragedy”.
They named “Ktharsis” of the feeling rose after seeing “Tragedy”. The original meaning of it is “Excretion”. It is a feeling after toilet, haircut, taking shower… It is necessary to excrete waste matter from our body.

Yes! It was not death itself what I saw. It must have been the last “Excrement” of him. If it's so, I'm sure that there must be some other subject which excretes him.

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