When I heard the music of Tom Waits for the first time, it inspired me to want to use my paint and poetry the way he could use his melodies and lyrics, painting something so clear that there was no room for doubt as to the intentions of my medium or my final product.

And when I heard his album, "The Heart of Saturday Night", I wanted to paint what I could hear: "crack of the pool balls, neon buzzin', telephone's ringin'; it's your second cousin." That glowing light of the inside of your favorite weekend place, the place (even if it's only your own basement) to get away from it all and become a little bit larger than life, bringing to the fore your hidden talents that only the lucky few have witnessed, reflected in the "magic melancholy tear" in the barmaid's eye.

Way to go, Tom, for letting us in on your colossal talent for illuminating those important slices of life, without which the pie just wouldn't be as tasty.