Each week, 17-year-old Stan Baker walked through Nickels Arcade to pick up his weekly supply of clay. The Community High student stood outside JT Abernathy’s pottery store, marveled by his success. Baker’s school couldn't supply the resources to keep up with his pottery obsession, so he bought his own materials. Every time Baker picked up his supply of clay, he would pester Abernathy for a job, and his answer remained the same for a year and a half: no. Baker didn’t abide well to that word.

At 18 years old, Baker was moving furniture at The Treasure Mart in Ann Arbor, Mich. when his phone rang. “Hey Stan,” Abernathy said. “It’s JT. If you'd like to work for me, you can start Monday.” When he returned to his job later that day, he apologized to the ladies at The Treasure Mart.

“I'm so sorry I can't give you a thirty days notice,” Baker said, “But I have to quit on Monday because my career–my life–is starting on Monday with JT.” That was a real turning point in Baker’s life. “That turned me down the road of no return of being an artist,” Baker said.

For eight years, Baker grew as an artist while under the influence of JT Abernathy. The eccentric artist taught Baker the basics – how to make glaze, through pots, fix equipment – everything that’s crucial to keeping a business alive and running. It was a broad education. The only thing that Abernathy didn’t teach him was how to relax and have fun. Abernathy is a workaholic to this day, even at 95 years old and still working. Being Abernathy’s last apprentice, Baker grew close to him, and became somewhat of a “surrogate son.” Abernathy is Baker’s main inspiration when it comes to pottery.

Since the age of 16, Baker hasn't been able to see himself pursuing any other occupation. One thing he wishes he had done as a young artist was save his money. Now he tells every young artist to save, and go to business school if they want to have a sustainable future. The artwork itself is only a fraction of what it takes to be an artist. He thinks young people can be coddled in this day and age. Baker reminds them to be careful that they are not just doing things they are taught. Coming up with your own ideas and making your own way are crucial.

“You need to know the history, and then make a new future,” Baker said. “Yeah, it’s nice to go to art school, it’s nice to get influence from other people, but you have to be careful about the guidance, because the guidance can actually constrict you as much as it can enlighten you. What you really need to do as an artist is learn on your own from your own mistakes, and see where you go. The hardest thing about being an artist in this society, is being able to support yourself for a living. You need a business background; you need to have some marketing. These are things that are just not natural to you as an artist. If you're an artist, you are going to be an artist, that’s in you.”

While creating pottery, Baker experiences the greatest thing in the world: elation. Nature is his influence. His natural brushwork drives from leaves, flowers, and the outside world. A dragonfly — an “incredible little creature” — has become a part of his business, and a part of himself. Tattoos of his own paint designs glide across his hand and up to his shoulder. He plans on adding to this composition until it wraps back down to his thigh. A symbol of good luck in Japanese culture, four brushstrokes and a little squiggly line for the body have become Bakers top pottery seller.

Around 10 in the morning today, you can find Stan Baker sitting on his low rise swivel chair while soft clay forms between his hands. A trickle of water recinates from the faucet and Luna — Baker’s husky — clacks her claws across the stone floor searching for attention. Baker works until 2pm in his studio on Main Street that he built himself. The studio has a towering ceiling ready for piles of plates to reach the top. Covering the walls are portraits and paintings of bare women. Baker believes the best shapes in the world are natural shapes, and that probably the most natural thing is the human body. He takes inspiration from the female form and sticks to curvy, round architecture, rarely creating angular art.

The importance of Baker’s work can be found at the bottom of a coffee mug on a Saturday morning. Coffee grains grab to the walls of the mug. The last few drops of Folgers assemble at the bottom of the mug. And joy is leftover.

“Through what I do, I bring a little joy to people's lives,” Baker said. “That’s what being a potter is. It’s making functional stuff that people use, and that brings a lot of joy to people's lives. They use it everyday, they’re enjoying it everyday. People will say to me, ‘I had coffee with you this morning, and it was really nice, and I have been having coffee with you everyday. I always go to that one mug, and it makes me feel good.’ That’s the thing I feel as my contribution; giving people a little something to make them happy.”