Soooooo, One Armed Potter, What’s That All About?

I’m relatively new to pottery. I’m about eight years in, so I’m still learning, still experimenting and still working things out.

That’s all well and good, I hear you say, but why One Armed Potter?

Fair question.

About 25 years ago, I had a motorbike accident and consequently lost the use of my right arm. Yes, I was right-handed.

Everything I could do up to that point suddenly seemed out of reach. That sounds dramatic, but it’s true.

I used to go extreme bass fishing around West Cornwall, complete with flotation suit and climbing rope. I used to try my hand at surfing, enjoyed canoeing and, basically, if there was anything I fancied having a go at, I never gave a thought as to whether I could actually do it.

Losing the use of my right arm really put the brakes on that, that’s for sure.

Discovering Pottery

In 2016, I was introduced to pottery via LandWorks on the Dartington Estate in Devon.

I won’t go into the why and where, but I was asked if I’d like to make pinch pots.

Now, there’s nothing wrong with making pinch pots, but… it reminded me of what the naughty kids got to do at school, if you understand what I mean.

Bollocks to that.

I noticed a potter’s wheel and simply asked the question: could I do that one-handed?

No one knew, is the honest truth, but I was told to have a go.

A young lass called Sarah showed me the basics: how to centre, how to cone up and, importantly, why.

She gave a demonstration, I watched, and then I had a go.

I was amazed at just how physical it was trying to keep a lump of clay under control on the wheel. I wibbled and wobbled, and my left arm was all over the place.

I was told to lock my arm and lean into the wheel.

With perseverance, I got there, and I actually made my first very basic bowl.

I was hooked.

I was then given a fantastic opportunity to use the wheel five days a week for the next six months.

It was glorious.

Guest potters would pop in now and again, and I’d watch with envy and amazement as they effortlessly produced mugs, bowls, plates and all manner of objects.

What they made seemed so out of reach back then.

Once my six months were up, I was humbled to receive my very own potter’s wheel, courtesy of LandWorks. I’ll be forever grateful for that.

Susan, my wife, bought me my very first kiln, a little Rohde Eco with a 43-litre capacity.

It all ended up in my garage, and away I went.

Figuring It Out for Myself

Covid was when things really started moving.

No work, no going anywhere. I had all the time in the world to simply play with clay.

Morning, noon and night.

I’d read books, watch YouTube videos and so on, but everything was aimed at a two-handed potter.

I had to figure a lot out for myself. Experiment. Adapt.

It was frustrating as hell at times.

I knew the theory, knew what to do, but physically couldn’t do it.

All of this, “Support the outside with this hand as you do this on the inside with this hand…”

Great. Thanks for that.

I found bowls pretty easy. What I struggled with was scaling up and making bigger bowls. I was also still pretty crap at forming cylinders.

Back then, I could comfortably centre and throw 600g of clay without it hurting too much.

When I started going bigger, ooof, oh it hurt. A lot.

The bigger the lump of clay, the harder it is to centre and cone up. It’s physically demanding, even for two-handed potters, I’d imagine.

I found my way, though, and if that meant using my forehead to push my hand down, yeh, I did that.

Whatever worked.

At some point, I can’t remember when, things started to click.

Cylinders were now doable, and the more I threw, the easier they became.

People Actually Wanted to Buy My Pots!

I started posting on Instagram and, surprisingly, people started following me.

And then I got a call from a gallery.

Would I be interested in selling my pottery through them?

I was gobsmacked.

I’d never really thought about where pottery might take me, and I certainly hadn’t considered selling anything. I wasn’t good enough, in my mind.

But I took a few samples along, and the owner of the gallery waxed lyrical about my mugs.

I was embarrassed and bemused.

Back then, I knew nothing.

I had no clue how glazes interacted, didn’t know the rules and so I just did stuff.

I really wish I’d written it all down, but I didn’t.

There were some amazing glaze combinations and effects, let me tell ya.

I started doing craft fairs too, tentatively at first, but people were actually buying what I made.

Amazing.

After that, there was no turning back, really.

I threw myself into pottery. Practised and practised. Experimented with my techniques, discovered my own way of doing things and even mastered making and attaching mug handles one-handed.

I don’t ‘pull’ handles like a lot of potters do. I use an extruder to make them, cut them to size, shape them and then attach them.

It took a while, but I like to do everything myself.

I can honestly say that everything is handmade by me.

Finding My Own Way

Through trial and error, I discovered what I could and couldn’t do. How tall I could go, how big I could go.

I have limits, but that’s not necessarily a bad thing.

It concentrates you more on the things you can do, and the more you do them, the better you get. The more refined your pottery becomes.

I’m unorthodox. I do things that may seem odd or awkward.

I don’t follow the norms. I can’t.

But I make bloody nice pots.

It’s now my full-time job.

The pay is rubbish, but I wouldn’t want to be doing anything else.

I have my own studio in my back garden. It’s small but big enough for what I do, and I can be quite productive.

So, there you have it.

That’s me. One Armed Potter.

I don’t want anyone to buy my pottery out of sympathy or because of the novelty factor.

I want people to buy my pots because they love ’em. Because they see something in them.

My pots are meant to be used. Every day.

Functional, but hopefully good-looking too.

Thanks for reading, and thanks for stopping by.

Feel free to have a browse of my shop to get a flavour of what I make

https://onearmedpotter.live/shop