The Meaning of Life - The beginning of the Thread

In Douglas Adams’ 1979 book The Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy, a super computer named Deep Thought was designed to determine the answer to the ultimate question. After 7.5 million years of consideration, the disappointing answer of “42” was conveyed to an enormous expectant audience. Deep Thought goes on to suggest that, in order to produce a better answer, a greater computer must be designed to determine the question. That greater computer is earth and the experiment of humanity was intended to determine this elusive question. 

What is the meaning of life? This specific question seems to encourage a universal answer. I find universality to be a difficult subscription because I turn into the “but ackshually” internet meme whenever someone tells me something is always true. How could one hope to construct a meaning of life that encompasses the octopus, supernova, the prime number sequence and love? Do trees find their lives meaningful? Rocks? When chickens tweak their crazy little heads about, are they contemplating why a powerful creator allowed wolves? Is meaning available only to that which may contemplate it?

The magnitude of this question distracts my attention and provides an excuse to talk around it instead of facing it head on. While I find it difficult to fathom that a universal answer to this nebulous question exists, I find it incredibly powerful to meditate on where I personally find meaning in life and I’m going to share some very specific instances.

Sharing knowledge with a younger generation gives rise to a visceral feeling of meaning in my chest. I have watched the fire of life illuminate the spirit of my children learning a new skill. My son brims with pride when he’s given tips on how to hit a baseball and immediately does it more effectively. My daughter’s eyes sparkle as she tells me about characters in books I’ve loved and shared with her. I feel a deep satisfaction when I see a member of the Gen Z generation discover beauty and complexity in the music of the Grateful Dead. There is something special about the transference of secrets gained from experience. 

I’ve been keenly aware of the significance in a fleeting moment; sharing a physical space where music or performance art is being created and presented live. There’s magic in bearing witness to the exhibition of an art form in an ethereal present moment. It can no longer be experienced as it drifts away in the wake of the vector of time. It’s a challenge for the artist to hang ten toes on the front of the surfboard, balancing the moment with the observer; working together to stay the momentum of the wave. The authenticity of that experience is so highly valued that people build their lives around chasing it. 

The passion that drive me to create art resides in the moment that I connect with someone who appreciates it. The software of our souls, a bluetooth connection, airdropping meaning directly into file folders within my consciousness. I was recently told that hanging a piece of my art in her living room felt like an intimate bond deepening our friendship. A piece of my heart is in your space now; please take care of it. I hope you love it.  

The existence of choice is especially meaningful to me. It means something that you can choose to stay. Or choose to leave. You can choose to make more people. You can choose to eliminate people. You can participate in the lives of those you love. You can choose not to. You have the option to add beauty, grace, love, harmony, optimism and hope to your community. But it’s critical to understand that there is tremendous meaning in the fact that you can also choose to inject bitterness, malice, poison and destruction into the impressionable minds of the next generation to experience life. 

What is the meaning of life? I can’t package a neat answer to that question. But I can say, confidently, passionately, without doubt; there IS meaning in living. 

I was inspired to contemplate this deep thought by a Greek computational biologist named Manolis Kellis. I’ve listened to his appearances on the Lex Fridman podcast multiple times. This man is filled with hope, optimism, passion and a pure love of the gift of existence. For his 42nd birthday, inspired by The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, he hosted a “Meaning of Life Symposium”. I would like to diverge from his format but maintain the trajectory. My ambition is for you, dear reader, to contemplate the question “What is the meaning of life?” 

My 42nd birthday was June 25, 2026. I want to spend  my 42nd year on this planet deeply considering this prompt. I want to hear your thoughts. I want you to think so deeply about this profound and difficult subject that you can’t help but talk to your friends and family about it. I encourage you to write a poem or sing a song about it. I would welcome a painting, a drawing, a sculpture, a photo, a plant, an essay, a voicemail. Let’s get our favorite beverages and walk through a park and verbally process how complicated and beautiful this idea is. If you’re reading this, you already know how to find me. You have 1 year. 

Why SIMPLE?

As I sit here to contemplate this written entry, the word SIMPLE is subtly embedded into a cubic structure on my hooded sweatshirt. A similar block letter design happens to be on the beanie I’m wearing. Wood grain lettering is flanked by bright colors on a panel hanging above my staircase, graffiti styled letters proclaim SIMPLE as if it’s a new idea. Fancy new glow in the dark stickers are stuffed into a plastic container with various stickers of octopus, bands and coffee companies. These SIMPLE stickers are derived from a drawing I did early in college. Why has this word been such a consistent presence in my life for the last 20 years?

I was immediately enamored with graffiti upon my introduction to it in high school. A simple idea really – how cool can you make your name look? Bubble letters get a third dimension, coloring in the lines became patterns, add shading and shine for depth, curve those shapes around and add some arrows. GET NUTS. There were no limits, in fact, it wasn’t even necessary to be able to discern individual letters. I thought these artists were magicians and I wanted to make magic. I adopted the alias SIMPLISTYK, quickly shortened to SIMPLE to fit easier on a page, and decided I’d learn wild style. I would draw complicated letters that said SIMPLE, because I’m clever.

20 years later, I stick with SIMPLE as it continues to motivate me to distill the complicated nature of reality, of art, of intention, of ideas; into more digestible blocks that help make sense of existing. I like to take this known entity, the same word, the same six letters that I’m so familiar with, and see if I can do something new with it. It’s kind of like my life, my body, my consciousness, my relationships; to some extent they’re the same but as they evolve over time they continue to take on new shapes and new forms. Perhaps SIMPLE is how I actively participate in the constant on-going river of change.

I feel like SIMPLE is where my journey as an artist started. I invite you to follow my creative expression as I continue making things as a way of life.

Below: A quick travel through time starting with SIMPLISTYK in my high school era. Then, wild style gives way to the geometric style and paper gives way to digital and wearable art.