How it came to be.  -In my dads words...

Espress O'd and Unwired

Auri Kyeni Ngui is my name and I'm on the autism spectrum.  If I could to master my speech, I would  tell you that I loved sculpting with wire coat hangers when I was younger, but now my passion has shifted toward culinary work. I navigates through countless food videos on YouTube, searching for the perfect recipe. My treasure is finding the perfect recipe that results in a perfect bite. My dad is constantly amazed by my exceptional ability to absorb and retain intricate details of his environment. I am an information sponge even as I toggles between youtube videos on my iPad and my closet in search of wire coat hangers.  I find solace in the symmetrical shapes that I thoughtfully sculpt from seemingly boring wire coat hangers.  

Cherried Sensory Fix

​A few years ago, My dad and I visited Kenya to visit my grandparents, who live in a remote village called Kangondi, about 100 miles northeast of Mt. Kilimanjaro.  The village is sprinkled with acacia, Mango, and coffee trees and whelmed by imposing hills and mountains rich in red volcanic soil.  It’s the land where the sun augments the blue skies and smirks at the gleaming glitter of golden and silver rock as if to say, “I make you shine!”.  The vibrant birds and tantalizing lizards on the scintillating rocks bask and glare back up to the sun in choral as if to respond, saying, “Yes, naturally!”.  The village’s solicitous human stewards can only interpret this salacious conversation.  For visitors, it’s a seducing and inebriating cultural ballad.  During that visit to his... 

Unwired in Coffee - The Impact

When Kyeni was in elementary school, we were concerned about his inability to stay calm enough to focus and learn.  After seeking medical advice, Kyeni was prescribed Attention deficit hyperactivity disorder (ADHD) medication that he had to take daily.  On a summer morning, during one of our many quests to find Kenya coffee at local coffee shops in Kansas City, Kyeni’s mind was undergoing an intense moment of identifying and sorting mental beans to roast; the heat was on.  He asked to taste my latte, but I declined and redirected him to enjoy his cup of blended strawberry limeade instead.  I didn’t allow him then to have coffee because he was too young to endure its effects, so I believed.  What happened next was life-changing for both of us.  My phone rang, and I reached to answer. In a split second, he settled on a mental bean, impulse.  He grabbed my latte, took a....
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