I used to be an active artist, and couldn't wait to get my hands dirty in any variety of materials, loving it all. Problem was, I could never decide on only a few mediums~ no! I had to try it all and experience how it worked. Lack of training, though, would soon produce frustration, and I'd move on to a new pretty, shiny way to create. Hardly an ideal way to go about the process, but it was mine, and in a way was very beneficial. It got me to the point where I was no longer trying but doing. Some art forms stayed, and the longer they lingered, the more they were loved. It helped to finally narrow down what I was meant to be as an artist. Sigh, it left a lot of crap in my house, too, that I had to invent a use for. But this had its purpose in refinement of destiny. It taught me to keep at it until the materials were used up, and further cemented the ones meant to continue.
Oddly enough, it was school that eliminated most of the desire to create. I "took the leap" and enrolled in an art academy. It was here that the desire was all but squashed. Don't get me wrong, I learned more than I ever expected to while attending; all useful and necessary skills. But joy was soon replaced with tedium, and desire faded around repeated criticism and bad reviews. All of the professors were artists themselves, but some weren't skilled as teachers and their often harsh attitudes began to wear at enthusiasm. I was working harder at art than I ever had before, amid worsening critiques, and by the end had stopped caring at all. The best thing that happened was that financial aide ran out, and I was forced to quit.
It has taken several years, but the old itch is slowly returning. I AM an artist, and that will never change. Now it isn't new mediums that battle for attention, but dread and fear. Those critiques whisper whenever I start something new, but to replace those negative attitudes, I am blessed now with friends who encourage. They are my inspiration.