Elvis Maina

Wordsmith

https://wordpress.com/pages/elvismaina7.wordpress.com

I'm a contemporary storyteller, son and full-time sweetheart.

About Me.

Elvis is passionate about building effective teams, and leveraging design ideas to well-constructed thoughts.

He currently transforms ideas to paper in attempt to conceptualize a narrative on young adulthood. He hopes to someday publish a memoir or at least make a lot of money; whichever comes first really.

Originally from Kenya, he studied in Missouri where he got a grasp on modern physical aspects of design. He loves books, music, and wine. Also his love for making bad jokes - I mean dogs.

Sample Writing Concepts.

"The mind is a significant tool that we can channel to grasp ideas and thus, spread information and tell stories."

MY STORIES.

He took a better look at the man he almost hit. Not a man, but a shroom. The figure staggered, hands outstretched, and approached the driver's side. It pressed its naked body against the window. He could see the delicate snowflake tracery of white rhizome fibers under its skin. The shroom's eyes glinted clear and blue. Its slack mouth drooled. The creature broke away, leaving a moist trail across the car. Its eyes turned skyward and fixed on a power pole draped with broken electrical lines and wild Jasmine. It moved to the poled driven by bizarre alien imperative, cast a final look over its shoulder - almost as if it were still a person- and climbed. The shroom reached the top of the pole and checked its grip, tightening and loosening its limbs. A mockingbird, unaware of the danger, harried the creature. The shroom shuddered, going through the terminal phase of its design.

NON-FICTION

I begin to meet with my mother on call every other week after the summer after the pandemic and we decide to talk about anything and everything. As we speak, my intention is to learn more about her and that eventually, she can learn more about me....................

Each time after these conversations that I have had with my mother, I think it is necessary that I do hear the stories of her ambitions, joys as well as trials in her life as the listening saves me from thinking that my own shortcomings are too big to overcome, that I should as well celebrate each small victory in my life.

03

UPBRINGING.

I am home again. There's a little bit of everything in here. Boxes full of newspaper

bits and torn magazines, photos and correspondence, cables and pieces of old tech,

half-filled notebooks and dried up pens, hair combs and the hair from the combs,

grade reports and exam papers- the family's history contained in bits and pieces

in several of these boxes sprayed throughout the house. This house that I grew up

in feels like a tiny house although is in fact much grander than my tiny apartment.

It has succumbed to dust that has settled upon dust to form a crust on the corners

and crevices. Not much has changed. Rather everything has aged - frozen five, ten,

fifteen years from a past that whence appeared. Nothing is new, and I dislike this

feeling of how old things seem. A past that isn't talked about on a regular basis.

Mementos my growing up in this family flood into focus. But now, I am surrounded

by siblings who are worlds apart from my immediate experience - having moved into

their own houses as I explore this museum of my past.

04

TO GIVE A SENSE OF WELL-BEING

How much of my motivations are a reflection of my desire for a sense of accomplishment?

My mother has spent her years living and being in the way she knows best - a life that cannot

become mine no matter how much I try. I am me and she is her. The qualities that I value

seem to be at odds with who I am seeing her to be. Yet, just like her, I have started this slow

accumulation of things, memories, notes, experiences that have years to fully mature and someday overflow into a cluttered house that I will one day call home. This aversion to home seems to come from a misunderstanding of the kind of person my mother is- a collector of memories fueled by the refusal to simply let things fade away into mercy of the brain's short

memory. She insists on taking pictures, let's things bloom to an old age, keeps a record of things she has acquired since she can remember. These are the simple patters whence every aspect of life flows from.

05

ORGANIZING CODESPACES FOR AUTOMATION TOOLS

Over the past couple of months, shuffling between different projects, and also work, I

found it particularly useful to have some standard way to organize a codebase - even

if each of the project differed in some way or another. This little guide is what I come

back to whenever I'm scaffolding a new project.

• Husky
  

Husky is used to make our commits more cool, and powerful to help

development easier. In this guide, husky will be used to format both the

files (source code) and commits themselves before they are executed.

Prettier and EsLint

If we would like to have our commits automatically format our code on every

commit- to ensure that the codebase follows a specified standard, defined in the

prettierrc file, then this is a handy tool to have.

06

DEVELOPING A CODE FOR RSLINX WHEN PUSHING AN ALGORITHM

FOR FANUC ROBOTS

Where do I go from here? I have such experiences that have shaped my becoming - an

external process that feeds from those before me and into the lives of those who might find such paths

compelling.

Defining a point using KAREL.

07

TOMORROW

Many forces coalesced, in thunderous fashion to bear fruit in what conspired. Some

in the name of fitting in that I gave into. Others, such as seeking a comfort and pleasure

that seems ever more fleeting. Fear of the future, not trusting in what I know to be

true. I looked away, consciously. How many times can I do this before my heart grows cold

and hard? I don't know. I'm afraid. Not everything can be fixed. Because something broke

that can never heal without the scars. In this word that hails the imperfect sheep, I face

head-on, my imperfections. At moments where I can transcend, I can't help but ogle at one

who fly towards the sun without skipping a beat.

08

YOU CAN FIND ME AMONGST THE MOVING FIELDS

From being a little buzzed from a drink, drained from the longest fall season, restless from still giving

up on deciding on a movie to watch and still wanting to do something to fill the time, fatigued mentally

and from a week of reconnecting with friends I hadn't seen in a while - I feel like a cauldron mellowing

with various emotions, feelings, realities. I wonder - in my alone time, how can I be so whole yet so needing

of the networks and relationships that surround me. Perhaps it was living in a noisy house with a sibling,

or always having some presence around me throughout boarding school. Yet, I cannot shake the feeling that

when lines too straight they go straight to the blinding sun. In other words - we, I meander, my callouses

grow, slip on the stairs occasionally, what used to taste horrid now has a comfort to it. We learn to love

what we disliked with such venom and continue to reinvent ourselves.

09

FROM IWATE

She avoid conflict, and smiles, and does what she is asked to do. She finds a niche

and hides in it. She does not question authority or put her own ideas forward, and

does not complain when mistreated. She strives for invisibility, like a fish in the

center of a swarming school. The sun is setting above the overpass by the time you

reach the end of Western Avenue. You plant a foot on the sidewalk and stare down

the road that winds back to your house. The Awkward, surprising realness of first dates.

Now would be a good time to wake up from this dream. I think I've slept too long and

my head hurts from too much wine. I need water. Where can we find things that seem to

not want to be found? With limited space, how will I know what to bring on this journey?

What lies are worth believing? Just a single Amen can save a soul, under which pressures

I will blow.

target topics

Love x Design

Design x Mental Health

Impact for Growth

Building Compatible Teams

Elvis is always available for side collaborations and talks worldwide. If you want to chat about design, books, wine, or anything else, don’t hesitate in reaching out.

Get in Touch.

Phone

@cliveelvisz

573-xxx-2833