Sometime in 2001, a bunch of astronomers got together and wondered: what is the color of the universe? Apparently, if you take light samplings gathered from the 200 galaxies we have data from and “smeared” all those colors together to find an average, you’d get the color of this website: a “conditionally perceived beige.”

They had a contest to name it—cute—and landed on Cosmic Latte, over Skyvory and Univeige, smartly. Hex code FFF8E7 if you’re nasty.

I learned this via one of my favorite websites—Astronomy Picture of the Day, a NASA-run site where each frankly tremendous photo is accompanied by a brief and often wry explanation written by a professional astronomer.

Check out a few of my favorite recent postings: A Shipwreck at Moonset, Swirls and Colors on Jupiter from Juno and Barnard 150: Seahorse in Cephus.


The photograph on my homepage was taken inside the historic Harvey House restaurant at Los Angeles Union Station. Designed by Mary Colter, one of the rare female architects to work prolifically throughout the 1920s, 30s and 40s, the restaurant was popular with soldiers shipping out during WWII.

I used to be director of a design & brand studio in New York, and I was in Los Angeles as part of a team to meet new clients. We were treated to a walkthrough of the Harvey House, which had been closed for decades. It’s a pretty spectacular space, both cat-lady-odd and soaringly romantic—Southwest meets Art Deco meets Ugly-Pretty meets parrots—but the reason this photograph is notable to me is because it captures the exact moment I decided to quit my job, leave New York, and move to Los Angeles.

I didn’t know I was being photographed, but I do know at that moment, walking through Mary Colter’s lobby, I was experiencing a sudden and profound shift in my internal tide. It’s the moment I started turning the cruise ship around and two years later, set on my correct course, I’m grateful to have a photograph of it.

Thank you, Andrew, for that.


In the tag of my website (peep leftward, or upward on mobile), I write 012 on the Internet here.

If you already know what that means… hello, fellow pager-owning Korean, Korean-American or Korean-ish former teen of the 90s! Because along with the standard 143 I love you and the 911 call me now, us Korean kids had a few extra shorthand beeper codes of our own. For example if you say the numbers zero-one-two in Korean-English-Korean it sounds out 영-one-이, which roughly spells 영원히, which in Korean is a word that means forever, so spelled out via pager pixels, 143 012 meant I love you forever. Ah, beeper romance. We also had 82—빨리—hurry. 8282 if you were pissed, 828282 if you were worried your best friend was dead in a ditch somewhere. Ah, beeper drama.