beginning

My Journey Through Tech

I was born in July ‘77, and my lucky sevens have followed me ever since. Looking back, it feels like my whole life has been tied to one long story of technology changing right in front of me—and me changing along with it.

I still remember my first encounters with computers in elementary school. They were simple classes, just a few lines of code on glowing black screens, but for me it felt like opening a secret door. Then came the ZX Spectrum, Commodore, Atari. Anyone who was there knows the sound—the screech of a cassette tape loading a game, followed years later by the metallic song of a modem dialing into the internet. Each sound was a promise, and just as often a disappointment, because half the time it didn’t work. But that was part of the thrill.

Back then, copying tapes was its own economy. If you had the right friends and a double-deck tape recorder, you were rich—in games, at least. Nobody talked about copyrights, nobody cared. We just wanted to play, explore, and see what these strange new machines could do.

As the years went on, the machines grew up and so did I. From PCs to Apple, from clunky local software to the first cloud tools. By then I was already building—SaaS products, e-commerce, cloud solutions. It felt modern, but compared to what was coming, it was just a warm-up.

The real turning point came in July 2015, when Ethereum went live. I already had a room full of Antminers heating my office as they worked away at Bitcoin. But Ethereum was something else. It wasn’t just about coins, it was a platform, a playground for developers. I knew immediately this was the next big leap. From that moment on, blockchain wasn’t just a curiosity—it became the core of my work.

I built data centers. I wrote my first smart contracts. I experimented with dApps long before most people even knew the term. And eventually all those experiments came together in my biggest creation so far: mOne, a non-custodial super-app that brings wallets, mini-apps, social tools, and now AI agents into one place. For me, it’s the natural continuation of everything that started with those cassette tapes.

Somewhere along the way, I also found myself on stage. Berlin, Baku, Warsaw, Dubai, Buenos Aires—I’ve spoken at conferences, panels, and meetups, sharing what I’ve learned and, more importantly, sharing the sense of wonder that comes with being part of this constant transformation. I’ve never thought of those talks as lectures. To me, they’re conversations—just like products are conversations—between where technology can go and where people want to be.

And now? Now we’re in the age of LLMs and AI agents. The machines are no longer just tools we program—they’re starting to talk back, to reason, to act on their own. I don’t lose sleep over that because I’m worried. I lose sleep because I can’t stop thinking about the possibilities.

When I look at the arc of my life—from the ZX Spectrum to blockchain economies with autonomous agents—I see one unbroken story. Technology never stood still, and neither did I.

Continuous Learning

I’ve never had a formal path into product building. Everything I know—design, coding, architecture, even how to build and lead teams—I learned on my own. Most of it came through trial, error, and a long list of mistakes. Some painful, some funny, all of them useful.

Over time, I realized that being a self-taught founder isn’t about knowing everything. It’s about never stopping the process of learning—about people, about systems, about how technology can serve us better.

Learning Through Action

I’ve always learned by watching the best and borrowing from them. Sometimes that meant copying how they worked, step by step, until I understood why it worked. There’s nothing wrong with that—creative copying has always been part of progress. The key is to adapt what you take and make it your own.

Every mistake along the way was a lesson too. If you’re open to it, failure is just another teacher—one that leaves stronger marks than success ever does.

The World Doesn’t Wait

Not long ago, technology seemed to change every few years. Then it sped up to months. Now it changes daily. Tomorrow it will be faster still. That’s why continuous learning isn’t optional—it’s survival. The moment you think you “know enough,” you’ve already started to fall behind. I often remind my teams about the Dunning-Kruger effect: the more you actually know, the more you realize how much is left to learn. That humility is the only way to keep pace with the world we’re building in.

Beyond Tech

Some of my most useful lessons haven’t come from technology at all. Psychology teaches me how people make choices. Economics explains how incentives shape behavior. Even architecture shows me how structure and flow can guide experience. The best ideas often appear when you cross disciplines. That’s why I keep looking outside my own field—because innovation rarely respects boundaries.

Seen Through Others

I’ve already shared how I see my own journey: the curiosity, the mistakes, the constant learning. But no matter how much I talk about products or teams, there’s one truth that keeps repeating itself: nothing meaningful is ever built alone. Every product I’ve worked on has been the result of close collaboration—between internal teams and external partners, between business minds and technical experts, between people who bring different strengths to the same mission.

This article isn’t about listing references or testimonials. It’s about the moments of synergy that shaped my work, and the people I’ve been fortunate to build with along the way.

Building What Doesn’t Exist Yet — With RITE

When I partnered with RITE, the task was clear, turn ideas like Coinswap and Metapro into full-scale products. I stepped in as the owner and leader of the project, while RITE brought in a dedicated team of engineers to extend what we could achieve. What began as outsourcing quickly turned into something much deeper—a collaboration where both sides pushed each other further.

What made this partnership special was how their team didn’t just plug into our work, but actually allowed us to scale our own internal team as well. Over the years, my core group worked side by side with the engineers from RITE, learning from each other and blending into a single extended team. That long-term cooperation shaped how we built products and how we grew as an organization.

I owe a lot to that collaboration. RITE didn't just provide people, they gave us competencies, insights, and ways of working that raised our standards. To this day, I truly value the technical calls I still have with Michal Nikolajuk, RITE's founder, where we exchange experiences and challenge each other's thinking. Those conversations remind me why collaboration matters: when teams complement each other, the result is always stronger than what either could build alone.

High Speed, High Stakes — With Drift Masters

Working with Drift Masters was unlike any other experience. Motorsport doesn’t wait—deadlines are sharp, events are live, and mistakes are public. Together, we built a fully custom scoring system, fan engagement tools, and platforms for virtual tournaments.

But what made it special was the collaboration with people like Slawek, Mateusz, and the whole team at Ragnar Simulators, who helped bring the virtual tournaments to life using the tools my team at Augmented Life Studio created. It wasn't just a service delivery—it was a true partnership where every part had to fit perfectly, because the show had to go on. That intensity forged trust, and trust turned into one of the most rewarding collaborations I've ever had.

Scaling Stories Into Games — With Enginious

My work with Enginious was all about blending entertainment with Web3. Together with Piotr Kocel and Wojtek Markowski, I learned an incredible amount about how to design economies inside mobile games and how to keep players engaged. We didn't just build projects like Degen Youki—we spent countless hours talking with their team about how tokenomics could expand the value that games bring to players.

That exchange of knowledge was invaluable. They’ve often said I brought clarity and product vision to the table. What I felt was that they gave me a new lens for seeing games: not just as experiences, but as living ecosystems where community, economics, and fun all have to coexist.

Big Stages, Big Brands — With Frenzy and ESE Entertainment

The collaboration with Frenzy was another kind of partnership altogether. Working with Michal Mango and Jedrzej Steszewski, I found a team that knew how to balance creativity and discipline in equal measure. Together, we also connected with their Canadian parent company, ESE Entertainment, and leaders like Konrad Wasiela and Zack Dolesky.

What we worked on together wasn’t small—it was strategy at the scale of global brands like Formula 1 in Miami and Melbourne. Planning digital product strategies for such names demanded both vision and execution, and it only worked because every party treated the partnership as a shared mission.

The Long Game — With Droids on Roids (Apadmi)

My collaboration with Droids on Roids has been one of the longest and most transformative journeys I’ve ever been part of. Together, our teams started from scratch, building what at the beginning was nothing more than a simple non-custodial wallet designed with the metaverse in mind. Over the years, that small, focused tool evolved into mOne, a true superapp.

Step by step, the app grew into something much bigger: a platform where users can play games, access decentralized applications, use on-ramp and off-ramp services, and manage their digital assets with ease. But it didn’t stop there. What began as a wallet slowly transformed into a social application, one that connects communities as much as it manages value.

This wasn’t a straight road. It was years of close collaboration between my internal team and the engineers at Droids on Roids, facing challenges we had never seen before. We weren’t just building features—we were often discovering entirely new areas of product design, architecture, and user experience. There were moments when none of us knew the answers, but we learned them together, turning uncertainty into capability.

That partnership taught me that innovation at scale isn’t just about brilliant ideas or technical skills. It’s about endurance, trust, and the ability to keep building side by side—even when the goalpost moves, the market shifts, or the product itself transforms into something no one imagined at the start. mOne is the best proof of that: a product born out of persistence, shared vision, and a partnership that grew stronger with every iteration.

Why Collaboration Matters

Looking back at these stories, I see a pattern: the best work always came from combining strengths. My internal teams brought ownership and vision; partner teams brought fresh skills, experience, and new ways of thinking. When those forces met, something unique happened—something none of us could have built alone.

That’s what others often highlight when they talk about working with me: the ability to lead with clarity, but also to listen, to integrate, and to create a sense of shared purpose. And maybe that’s the real lesson. In a world where technology evolves daily, the most important skill isn’t just coding or strategy—it’s the ability to build collaboration strong enough to carry an idea all the way from a sketch to a living product.

Leadership and Code

When people ask me whether leaders in tech should still be writing code, I don’t think the answer is simple. For me, it’s never been a yes-or-no question. It’s about the team, the stage of the product, and the kind of challenges we’re facing.

One thing I know for sure, building digital products is never a solo act. From design and frontend to backend, architecture, testing, and even the final storytelling around a launch—it’s always the outcome of many people working together. Even with AI agents and LLMs helping us more and more, the real decisions, the vision, the direction, the definition of success still belong to humans.

Staying Close to the Code

I’ve learned that touching the code, even occasionally, keeps me grounded. It’s easy to lose perspective when you only operate at the strategy level. Writing or reviewing code helps me see the friction the team runs into and keeps me honest about what’s realistic. It also shows the team that leadership isn’t separate from their daily reality—we’re in this together.

Knowing When to Step Back

In the early days of a product, coding side by side with the team helps set the culture and technical direction. But as the team grows, leadership shifts. It becomes less about committing lines of code and more about guiding architecture, reviewing critical parts, and clearing obstacles so others can move faster.

The balance is tricky, but it matters. Leadership isn’t about being the best coder in the room. It’s about creating the conditions for the team to do their best work, while making sure the product still reflects the bigger vision we’re chasing.

Human First

Imagine you open an app and in a few seconds it solves the exact problem you had. It feels obvious, almost effortless. But it only feels that way because someone spent a long time making sure the technology actually works for You.

That’s how I see product building. It’s not about stacking features or chasing the latest trend. It’s about paying attention to people—their habits, frustrations, and goals. AI, automation, and agents are moving fast, but in the end they’re just tools. The real focus is always human.

Technology as a Conversation

When I design a product, I don’t think of it as code on a server. I think of it as a conversation.

A back-and-forth between human intention and machine capability. Where they overlap, the product begins to feel less like a tool and more like something you can naturally interact with.

Change Is the Norm

The world is shifting quickly—AI, automation, new ways of working. Products can’t be frozen in place, they have to adapt. I think of it like building a boat that keeps adjusting its own parts while already out at sea. The water is always moving, and the product has to move with it. Still, one thing never changes: a human should always be first in the loop, and last in the loop.