One-armed potter: 'I just muddle my way through'

Gary Fulton says his garage where he makes his pottery is his "happy place"

Gary Fulton lost the use of his right arm after a motorbike accident that nearly killed him. He had to relearn how to do things with his left hand and lives with constant pain. Then he got sent to prison for conspiring to launder VAT money.

While in jail Gary was introduced to pottery and fell in love with the hobby. Back at home in Hayle, Cornwall, the 53-year-old has set himself up as the One Armed Potter. He describes how he has faced each challenge and how he hopes his story might inspire others.

'I guarded Rudolf Hess at Spandau Prison'

Gary joined the Army as a teenager and served for seven years

I was born in Preston and we moved to Scotland when I was eight.

I got it into my head at 16 that I wanted to be a soldier so I sat the tests and I was good enough. I absolutely loved it - they were the best seven years of my life.

I did a couple of tours of Northern Ireland, went to Kenya and my claim to fame is being one of the last British soldiers to guard Rudolf Hess at Spandau Prison in Berlin.

It was a phenomenal time. I got to see stuff that I would never have seen and it taught me to be respectful, but I knew when it was time to get out. Later I worked as a bricklayer and then flower picking before getting a job in telesales, which I was really good at.

'I spent six weeks on life support'

He says being in the Army gave him the chance to see things and taught him respect

In about 2002 I had just done my diploma in management and I got it in my head I wanted a motorbike, God knows why.

I ended up getting knocked off on a roundabout in Truro. I can't remember anything about it but I was left on life support for six weeks, punctured my lungs, broke my neck, ribs, and ripped all the nerves out of the spinal column. I had a brachial plexus injury, which is well known for nerve pain.

I woke up six weeks later and did not have a clue what had happened. The last thing I remembered my nephew had been killed two weeks before and I woke up in hospital with my sister sat beside me. Then I realised my arm didn't work.

I don't know how I would describe it to you. I could feel my arm. It was there, I could see it and it was in a lot of pain but I couldn't use it.

I just thought, "what am I going to do now?" I was down for a while but my wife was there beside me, geeing me on and you just have to get on with life.

'My Army experience helped in prison'

Gary met his wife Susan in the early 1990s and describes how she has been a constant source of support

You find ways of doing things. You adapt and you just find new things to do. I did some stupid stuff like getting into mountain boarding, which thought I could do but I couldn't.

A year later I had a heart attack on New Year's Day and had to have a coronary artery bypass. Between that and the accident it was just too much for my body to take so I took a year off work but then people were fed up with me being around the house because a bored Gary is a terrible Gary. I ended up working as a currency trader, which was my downfall.

I got found guilty of conspiring to launder VAT money and served two years, three months of a four-and-a-half-year jail sentence.

I hadn't done anything but that is neither here nor there, I was found guilty. I accept that but I don't define myself as that. It happened, it was unfortunate and it was an experience I could have done without.

I think my Army experience was a benefit because it is a very male-orientated environment, it is very rough and tumble - mind you in the Army I was more able-bodied. When I knew I was going to prison with a disability I was a bit apprehensive.

'Not everyone there is a monster'

"I am sure there would be purists who would be horrified but I have never said my bowls are perfect"

My first day in prison, I spoke to my son. At the end of the call he said "stay strong Dad" at which point I had a tear in my eye and I'm not a crying guy but that got me.

Not everyone in prison is a monster. There are people in there that should be and there are some that maybe something else could be done. The drugs were terrible, the violence was horrific but it becomes normal and I never wanted jail to be normal.

I got an opportunity to go to a place called Landworks in Devon and I was introduced to pottery there so I suppose I should thank prison, really, in a way.

I knew nothing about Landworks other than the boards that were up in prison, and guys who had been there said you have to go, the food is great and it is brilliant. My initial impression was that it is a hippy commune. I was quite a bitter man then and I moaned like hell but Chris who runs it was very good. He spoke to me and put me in the art room.

They had me making coil pots, which I really hated because that was something infants did and I just asked to try the wheel.

The rest has gone on from there, really.

I just sort of muddled my way through. I was there five days a week uninterrupted and that is all I did. I used the time well.

'I was on 25 painkillers a day'

He posts his creations on his Facebook page

It can be frustrating. I look at what other potters make and feel I can do the same but there is much I can't do. I make cups, I make bowls and jugs and sometimes I will get lucky and make something really big. Not having two hands to use makes it difficult getting bigger in both height and width. I keep trying though and will find a way.

As I was getting ready to leave prison I applied for a grant for a potter's wheel and I bought a kiln. Now I make in my garage and sell at craft fairs and in local galleries. I also work full time.

I am still in constant pain. At one point I was on 25 painkillers a day but I knocked that on the head. I have tried various things for pain but the injury I had is probably the most severe of its type.

Funnily enough, when I am doing my pottery I don't notice the pain because my mind is elsewhere so it is good for that. You learn to live with stuff. It is amazing what you can learn to live with. There are people in far worse situations than me. I have still got a roof over my head, I have got a family and life is alright, really.

'I'd like to do pottery full time'

Over the years with everything that has happened I have come to the realisation that when you wake up in the morning, you have no idea what is going to happen that day. I just take each day as it comes.

One day I would like to do pottery full time, one day the dream is to combine the counselling diploma I got in prison and the pottery as a talking art therapy, just helping other people. If I can help anyone else with their own issues, if I can inspire someone to have a go at pottery, then I'll settle for that.

I would like to get through this life without much more drama because I have had enough of the drama now. I just want a quiet life and the pottery gives me that. That's what I'd like to do in the future just be down in my garage or in a shed somewhere, just making stuff.

As told to Johanna Carr