CAR BUILDS

It all started with a childhood dream. I remember the posters on my bedroom wall—Porsche 911s, scarlet Ferraris, machines that looked like they belonged to another universe. I’d stare at them for hours, imagining the sound, the speed, the smell of warm tarmac. Those cars were icons—shiny, distant, and completely out of reach. Especially growing up in Poland during the commie years, they may as well have been spaceships. You didn’t see cars like that on the street. You saw them on screens, or if you were lucky, in imported magazines passed around like contraband among the obsessed few.

But the fire never went out.

Fast forward to now—and here I am. No longer the kid with posters, but a man with greasy hands, working late in a garage filled with sparks and the smell of fuel and ambition. I build cars. Real ones. For friends. For former startup bosses. For the kinds of people who used to talk product-market fit and user journeys, but now trust me to craft their dream machines.

And I don’t just build any cars. My roots are in motorsport. That’s where I come from. That’s my DNA. So every project I take on carries that spirit—raw, focused, unapologetic. I don’t do show cars. I build machines that want to move, to corner hard, to make noise, to leave rubber behind. They have soul. They demand to be driven.

Some days, I still can’t believe it. That I’ve gone from idolizing machines I thought I’d never touch, to designing and building my own. It’s not a factory. It’s not mass production. It’s personal. It’s craft. It’s obsession.

And yeah, I guess you could say: I’m finally living the dream. One bolt, one weld, one car at a time.