Let me introduce myself.

Firstly, you can call me Harry. Well, my full name is Harry Pockett — yes, I know — The Open Pockett — it’s an excellent title. Witty, layered — Hold the applause, I’ve heard it all before. And yes, I’m aware my name sounds suspiciously close to that famous wizard’s. A fact that comedians, friends, and strangers alike have been quick to point out since I was about five years old. It’s inescapable. I once stayed with an Indigenous community deep in the Amazon rainforest, and when I told the family I was staying with that my name was Harry Pockett, they erupted into laughter and delight: “HARRY POTTER, HARRY POTTER!” they shouted. Some things in life, it seems, you simply can’t run from.

So that’s my name — glad I’ve ushered that elephant from the room. I’ll give you two more important facts, and then we can move on to the bigger question: Why should anyone care about this website? First, I’m from England, born and raised in a little village adjacent to South-West London. Second, I’ve traveled around the world for the past three years.

Those are the two facts, and I think they’re important to share. I’m a lucky boy. I don’t deny my privilege, nor do I renounce it. Yes, I’m aware of the stereotype about white southerners who go traa-velling to fiiiii-nd themselves. Alongside the Harry Potter jokes, I’m reminded of it every time I step foot on home soil. So yes, I’m aware of my profile — I’m sure Disney executives would hyperventilate at the thought. 

But why make a website, I hear a faint voice ask? Ultimately, it’s for me. I’d be genuinely shocked if even 100 people outside of friends and family stumbled across this. I know how crowded this space has become — and it’s hard to stand out, especially when you’re building a website with zero experience and free software. But sharing is the point. Whether it’s my photos or something I’ve scribbled down, it’s enough just to put it out there.

Creatively, I fall neatly into the Late Bloomer category. I picked up a camera for the first time in earnest at 27. I started journaling at 25. I always felt like a creative, but for a long time, I had nothing to show for it. (You’ll have to read my work to find out why.) I wasn’t in the right headspace to think creatively — it had to come to me organically, as most important things in life tend to.

Photography was certainly that — an instant fit. I was gifted an old 1980s Pentax ME Super for Christmas in 2023, but it wasn’t until I arrived in Vietnam the following May that I actually began using it. When that moment happened, it felt as if my entire perspective shifted. For the first time in my life, I began to see scenes take frame in my eyes.

To me, photography is an utterly present activity — especially when you're shooting street, where everything is in flux. Remaining focused on the environment around you is everything. Observation is everything. For a travel-hungry man like myself, that’s an exciting reality. Every time I step onto the streets, camera in hand, I connect with the place in a way I simply wouldn’t without my lens. It’s a special part of this journey. For all the traveling I’ve done, places I’ve seen, and people I’ve met, there’s no connection I’ve had that compares to the one I find through photography.

Writing came more slowly. Initially — like so many others — I used journaling as a form of therapy, needing my words to lift me off the canvas after hard days, to help untangle the spiders spinning webs in my mind. Each page was a small act of catharsis, a way to unknot deeply rooted insecurities. And for a while, that’s exactly what journaling remained.

But nowadays, it’s different. Journaling has become a space for play — a lens to explore experiences and chase the curious questions that scatter across my mind. There’s still room for heaviness, of course, but now it comes through a wider angle. Not simply releasing negative thoughts, but purifying them — sometimes even laughing at them.
(I actually wrote the other day about how heavy and dramatic my longer pieces can be. But of course they are — the foundations of this craft were built on pain, for God’s sake! 

At this stage, vulnerability has become my comfort zone. But I’m still early in this process — with both writing and photography. As I type this, it’s only been 11 months since I learned what the exposure triangle even is (and honestly, it still confuses me sometimes). The two longer essays you’ll find in the 'Blog' section are my first-ever published works — and yes, uploading your own writing to your own website definitely counts as publishing in my book.

The point is: I’m extremely proud of what this website has become, and I'm excited to see where this creative path will take me. I know there’s a lot more to come — and I’m thrilled to have taken the first steps.