If I see Tominaga's stone carvings, I can't help but think about some strained relations between the freshness and the sufficiency. At first sight, here is nothing difficult. Then the freshness is thoroughly discovered in natural nuances of the stones as materials, and the sufficiency is carried by the sones, as their simple and clear forms, without any violence. However, when this freshness and sufficiency are composed to be one of his "works", I feel as if there run some ripples out of tensions. If the freshness of stones are completly withdrawn into the sufficiency of their forms, the works may come nearer a natural and archaic "being", but, after all, there will surely fail the freshness itself. The freshness and the sufficiency don't injure but intensify each other, and give out some, almost invisible, movements of the life. Is it too much interpretation if I say that they are the directions of "The Egg slowly standing up", or the music of becomming which inspires his "Hatch" or "Wing"s ?