Wednesday, August 31, 2022

Sunday was something really special. I've been working with @deanchoochlandry this summer taking photos of my Dad's Sportster clone bike for something pretty big! We've shot at 2 locations that harken back to my Dad's history. One of them being at R.S. Phillips Steel in Sussex, NJ where my dad worked for over 20 years until his retirement in 2019. This steel yard was also my first full time job out of high school and where I met Ben. My old boss, and owner Scott Phillips, was more than accommodating to allow me to bring my dad's bike and shoot photos in his old shop. We were there starting at 7am and finished around noon. I haven't spent that much time at the steel yard in over 10 years. It was certainly bittersweet with a flood of memories and emotions. Many things have changed at this place and many things have stayed the same, and it strangely still feels like home to me. I learned a lot here working beside my dad and Ben. Many parts and sissybars were made at break time on the giant road plate table in the shop over the years. We even raked my sportster on that table. It only felt fitting to shoot the finished '69 clone bike on it. Never was a finished bike up there before, never had a reason to until now. It was a little nerve wracking hoisting it in the air to get on the table but it was definitely worth it. I had to hold back a few tears taking the whole scene in. Sunday was certainly one for the books. Not only were good times had with good friends, good photos taken, I felt like some closure happened as well. Big thank you to Dean and his daughter Dahlia for spending there Sunday morning taking photos and a big thank you to Scott Phillips for opening up the yard for us! Dad, I know you'd approve. I love ya and miss ya.


Sunday, May 29, 2022

There really are no words. To try and come up with the words makes it feel too real that he's gone. It's been a long week to find my voice in this so, here goes. On the morning of Saturday, May 21st 2022, my Dad, Joseph Carl Piorkowski passed away after his sudden 4 month battle with brain cancer. It's true what people say, that no one understands what it really feels like until it happens. Losing a parent is incredibly heavy but this feels like so much more. It's impossible to fully describe the sheer magnitude of the loss of his presence, or the utter frustration of what was robbed from my Dad. Cancer causes everyone to lose something, but this felt extreme for my Dad because it was the very thing that made him who he was and what made him happy. A terrible twist of fate. Growing up with Joe as my Dad wasn't always easy. Not for my mom or my brother either. More than half of his life he just kept his head down, avoided people and worked his knuckles to the bone. However, a man of many talents, he made great efforts to do creative things with my brother Ray and I. It wasn't until later in his life he really came into his own and found happiness through his art, metal sculptures, building motorcycles again and making friends in the resurgence of the vintage motorcycle community. I'm sure it felt odd at times for him partying at campouts and riding with people less than half his age. But he did it! He enjoyed it. It likely made him feel less of a screw up half his life to see so many people look up to him, listen to his stories, and build bikes similar to those he rode so many miles on. To call my own Dad a legend feels funny to me, but it's the single word that keeps recurring from others. To see so many people inspired by him makes me proud to call him my Dad. I am forever grateful for what he has taught me and I will do everything I can to keep his legacy alive. I want to thank everyone for their support over the past few months. I want to say rest in peace Dad but, instead I hope you're riding in peace, along with Uncle Neil, Dave and Casey and continuing your adventures across the cosmos. JCP 7-9-49 5-21-22 A Celebration of Life TBA at a later date.