ENGINEER'S CARD · FULL DNA · UNCURATED REGISTER
The About page shows the curated card — the tools on top of the workbench, the ones I reach for daily. This page is the whole drawer: every role, every certificate, every year, in the order it happened. No curation, no varnish. Facts here match my LinkedIn record one to one — cross-check freely; that is what this page is for.
school infrastructure and private clients: custom builds, networks, hands-on support. First trade: making machines work for people who need them working.
yes, an electrician. Current before code; you learn respect for systems where mistakes bite immediately.
five nines from the operator's side: a bank branch that simply cannot fail to open in the morning. I ran branch IT through the bank's transition from distributed to centralized architecture and took an active part in it — at branch, regional and head-office level. (The official title was "Kierownik Działu Przetwarzania Danych i Informatyki" — I shorten it to IT Manager out of mercy for non-Polish tongues.)
still the operator's side of five nines, now at international FMCG scale: IT for the factory and the office in Poland, plus IT support for a field force of 300 sales reps across the country. A bank that cannot fail to open taught me discipline; a factory and 300 people on the road taught me reach.
the crossing to the other side of five nines: supplier and integrator.
the continuation and expansion of that world: eight years of enterprise storage, SAN networks, centralized backup, virtualization and high availability. End-to-end: sales, integration, delivery, post-deployment care — and customer relations conducted where these decisions actually live: with IT managers, IT directors and the boardroom.
custom-built websites, web services and online platforms on hard-coded architecture and proprietary CMS.
digitalizing legal case workflows; legal-tech before the name existed. This was the first idea of an automated legal-service system — ⧫ the gene I develop today as DwaPrawa, now extended with an AI layer.
energy trading and brokerage; green-energy options for businesses and households.
the next chapter of Proimagine, with a wider spectrum: tailored web platforms and ERP/CRM systems for legal firms and SMEs. ⧫ Proimagine and CodiLab together are the DNA of today's superweb.uk.
five international events on entrepreneurship and human development, 15+ speakers including global leaders in psychology and innovation. ⧫ The stage era. I later chose the workshop over the stage — the About page explains why.
structural clarity, decision integrity and systemic stability for founders, executives and investors; advisory across AI, blockchain, ERP/CRM, legal-tech and B2B automation; investor-readiness and support through launches and inflection points. Today increasingly delivered the way the newest floor of this workshop works: by conducting an orchestra of AI agents — see below.
token-based architecture for decentralized finance; fundraising, product roadmap, regulatory compliance, MENA partnerships.
Both sides of the same discipline, in order: first the operator whose systems must simply work — a bank branch that opens every morning (PKO BP), then a factory, an office and 300 sales reps in the field who cannot stop selling (Reckitt Benckiser). Only then the crossing to the supplier and integrator side, designing and delivering those systems for others (Comparex, Storage Solutions/Secover). Architectures and technologies at enterprise scale: IBM, NetApp, VMware, Cisco; SAN networks, centralized data protection, virtualization, high-availability design. In the five-nines era I worked under security clearances issued by Poland's Internal Security Agency (ABW).
Three floors of the workshop, and the staircase between them. Cutting any one of them off would make this page half-DNA, and the sign above the door says full. Open a drawer to see what is inside.
Five nines (99,999%) is not a slogan — it is five minutes of downtime a year, and somebody has to know how those five minutes are bought. This drawer is that knowledge, certified: disk and tape, SAN, virtualisation, centralised backup, Power systems, networks — and the clearance that let me stand next to data the wrong pair of eyes could not see. IBM, NetApp, VMware, Cisco. The exam is the easy part; a bank branch that opens on Monday morning is the real qualification.
The formal trace of the ground floor described on the About page: years of studying how a person decides, what they fear, what carries them. Read this as a curriculum, not a collection — most of it is one long path under one teacher, taken in order, over years. On this floor I trust results at the table more than names on paper; but the paper exists, so here it is.
How a company actually works once nobody is performing: where the money is really made, where the process quietly leaks, and how you point a room full of different people at one goal without flattening what makes each of them useful. A model for reading a business, two for reading the people inside it, a method for cutting waste out of a process, the habits that decide whether any of it survives contact with a Monday — and the coaching craft that turns an instruction into somebody else's own decision.
Not a floor — the thing that lets you move between them. Two of these are control at speed: a motorcycle and a Porsche on Finnish ice teach the same lesson in different weather — the machine goes exactly where you looked, and the only margin you have is the one you actually measured, not the one you assumed. The other two run in the opposite direction: how to go quiet, hold a conversation with your own body, and set the ego down so it stops interfering with the work. None of this ever appeared in a tender. All of it decides how the other three floors get used.
Read down the drawers and you get a list. Read across them and you get the actual tool.
A certificate is a receipt for theory. It marks the day knowledge was handed over — never the day it started working. That day comes later, and it comes in the field: in server rooms at three in the morning, at tables where the decision was really made, in the companies I built and in the one I lost. Practice does to knowledge what it does to driving a car: at first every move is deliberate and costs attention; years later it runs underneath thinking, and the attention is free for the road ahead. That is the difference between a man who has been trained and a man who has been shaped — the first still recalls the method, the second no longer needs to.
So the value was never in a single drawer. It is in what happened when five-nines discipline met the reading of people, and both met the way a business actually earns — inside one head, over thirty years, verified by consequences rather than by exams. Everything above is the input. What I bring to your table is what three decades did with it.
The newest floor of the workshop, and the one I explore most actively today: conducting teams of AI agents.
For most of my career, scaling delivery meant scaling headcount — more projects required more people, more coordination, more cost. That equation has changed. With the right conductor — one who knows his orchestra, writes precise scores, assigns the right instrument to the right part and verifies every performance before it ships — a single architect now directs a full delivery team of AI agents: researchers, designers, builders, translators, testers.
The classic project triangle said: faster means costlier, and usually worse. Conducted well, an AI orchestra breaks that triangle — my own projects and my clients' projects ship faster and better, without growing the cost of execution. Not because the machines are magic, but because someone who has spent thirty years building systems knows exactly what to delegate, what to verify, and what to never let out of human hands.
I don't say this from a conference stage. The proof is parked in the hangar: piotrkopec.com, superweb.uk and sounddna.org — content, design, code, animation and translations — were all built exactly this way: an architect conducting an AI orchestra, with a human hand on every verdict.
Footnote · the drawer that doesn't fit. One honest footnote: this register covers roles and paid work only. It leaves out years of passion-driven projects at the intersections of technologies — experience that never had a job title, and that I draw on in my business work to this day. One of those passions consumed me so completely that it became a machine: ⧫ SoundDNA. Some drawers don't fit on any card — and some grow wings.
Register complete. Nothing curated, nothing hidden.