Alright – so today we’ve got the honor of introducing you to Wendy Withrow. We think you’ll enjoy our conversation, we’ve shared it below.
Wendy, appreciate you joining us today. Did you always know you wanted to pursue a creative or artistic career? When did you first know?
Rather than one particular moment, I have come back to the moment of discovering my creative path many times. I did not grow up thinking I was creative or particularly suited to art. In fact, I was so nervous about art class in high school, I talked the one art teacher at my small, rural public school into letting me gain the necessary credits with an independent study in art history to avoid making anything. It’s been a long, slow discovery, with many “aha” moments along the way.
One of the first memories I have of wanting to pursue a creative path professionally was when I was as young as four or five. I dreamed of being a professional dancer and begged my parents to let me take dance classes. Our religious beliefs at the time did not allow dancing, so it wasn’t until I was a preteen and my parents began the process of leaving that religious community that I was able to pursue dance lessons. Looking back I feel sad for the little girl who wasn’t encouraged to do what she loved.
As a freshman in college, I took an elective course in ceramics at the encouragement of a friend. I loved it immediately. That spring, I traveled with fellow ceramics students to the annual conference of the National Council on Education of the Ceramic Arts. It was in New Orleans that year, and I fell in love with the arts even more. I decided to pursue a BFA in Ceramics and devote myself to a profession in the arts.
Despite my enthusiasm, I didn’t really know what it meant to be an art professional, how to turn that into a career. After getting my BFA, teaching community arts classes, and working in arts administration for a few years, I went back to school to learn the trade of traditional bookbinding by hand. I hoped that it would give me an arts-related skill with which I could make a living. And I did work as a bookbinder in private practice for over a decade, making highly custom books and boxes for individuals and institutions. But I still wasn’t making art.
Having two children took me even farther off the path of art-making. I was grateful to be able to be home with my kids when they were little and work part-time in my bookbindery, but there was no space for artistic work in those years. Just about the time I began to think about getting back to art, Covid hit and my kids’ school went online for a year. I came out of that time really questioning myself and my path forward.
Finally, as Covid subsided and my kids became more independent, I decided again, for the first time since I was that freshman in college, to pursue art as a profession. I closed my bookbinding practice and began to pursue show opportunities, professional development classes, residencies, critique groups, and an art cohort. I realized, with the support and community of other professional artists around me, that art has always been in me. Once I acknowledged that, I unleashed a flood of ideas and more work than I can keep up with. That movement I longed for as a child has found its place in the movement of my book sculptures and the pots I make on the potter’s wheel. Perhaps I will have more “aha” moments ahead, but for right now I feel more sure of my path as an artist than ever before.

Awesome – so before we get into the rest of our questions, can you briefly introduce yourself to our readers.
I am a book artist. This means that I am a conceptual artist who makes sculpture which often takes a book form in service of an idea I want to convey. And I am also a functional ceramicist, a ceramic artist who makes objects to be used in daily life. I studied sculptural ceramics for my BFA, which gave me a solid foundation in the language of art and development of conceptual ideas into 3-dimensional form. While in this undergraduate program, I took an elective in conceptual book arts. I fell in love with the book as an art object and wanted to learn more. This led me to pursue a diploma in traditional bookbinding at the North Bennet Street School in Boston. During the two years I was there, I gained a foundation in hand skills and elevated my ability to produce well-crafted books.
For years, I used these traditional bookbinding skills to make highly custom books and boxes for private clients. I loved using my skills, but over those years I missed the conceptual side of making art… making things I imagined, processing the world and my experience in it by making things, and expressing my thoughts and ideas to others. A few years ago, a neighbor and I had the opportunity to purchase equipment and tools from a retiring ceramic artist, and this led me to make a huge shift in my work. I ended my bookbinding practice and began pursuing art-making again.
In the work I make, I draw on my experience of daily life as a parent, wife, friend, neighbor, citizen of the world, and steward of the planet. My work often tackles current political and social issues, such as gun violence, the 24-hour news cycle, and political division in America. I love to use the book form in my work because I can use words, textures, form, and movement to express my ideas in a package that is intimate and familiar to viewers.
Book arts are a newer medium in the art world, which sets me apart from other artists. But fitting into an easy category is challenging. It can be a benefit when applying for opportunities like residencies to work in a medium that isn’t as common as more traditional art forms, like painting. But it can also be difficult to explain what I make to others because there are fewer reference points. I often don’t quite know where I fit, whether it’s in the book world or the art world. My work is often too conceptual to be in traditional library collections or shows, but too bookish to be taken seriously in art spaces.
Another challenge is showing work that is small and meant to be moved and “read” by the viewer. Traditional galleries and museums don’t allow the work to be touched and my work is not fully experienced when it is static. This is where I am currently working on growing in my work. Adding videos of the work in motion along with the object, finding alternative spaces where work can be touched, creating interactive installations, and combining my objects with live or recorded performances are ideas I am currently exploring.

How can we best help foster a strong, supportive environment for artists and creatives?
A thriving creative ecosystem benefits everyone in the society, but requires engagement and participation from the majority of its citizens. Engagement means going to shows and events. It means being curious about what you see and hear, asking artists questions, and talking with them about their work. It means buying art in whatever form brings you joy and enriches your life… art to hang on your walls, records or albums to listen to, or handmade dishes to eat from. It means taking classes or learning how to do a new art or craft as a hobby. It means supporting (and funding) arts education so our kids grow up to value and support the arts, too. A thriving creative ecosystem requires that it’s citizens value art and creativity as an essential part of all of our lives.

Are there any resources you wish you knew about earlier in your creative journey?
I wish that I had learned how to make and use an artist action plan earlier on in my life. The decision to pursue a career in the arts came to me with a vague idea of solo shows and sales of artwork. There was a huge gap in between what I imagined and the practical understanding of how to get myself there. An artist’s time is often only half spent creating anything. The other half is spent documenting, promoting, packing and shipping, archiving, etc. And yet, the majority of the education artists receive is around artistic practice alone.
A few years ago, I took a class from another artist on how to create a sustainable life making art. She broke down how to create an artist action plan. Then, she worked with us over 8-weeks to continually drill down from our goals until we had very detailed, specific steps to take toward each one. It completely transformed how I work and helped me very concretely put actionable steps behind every idea and goal I have. An artist action plan is now an integral part of my practice. At the beginning of every year, I make an overall plan, and then revisit it quarterly to keep myself focused on my bigger goals.
Contact Info:
- Website: http://www.wendyerinwithrow.com/
- Instagram: http://www.instagram.com/wendyerinwithrow


Image Credits
Mira Reidsma Withrow
Wendy Withrow

