I am constantly in a need to create irrespective of the medium.

Hear the words of Shefali Shah, words that breathe the fire of the creator’s soul: “I am constantly in a need to create irrespective of the medium. When I started out, I did sketch and I continue to do so on paper sometimes. Mainly, I work with acrylic and ink. Honestly, I don’t have the patience for oil paint to dry.” This confession is not simply about brushes and colors—it is a testament to the restless spirit of artistry, the eternal hunger to shape beauty in whatever form the moment allows.

When Shah speaks of the need to create, she calls upon one of the oldest truths of humanity: that to create is to live fully. Just as rivers must flow and flames must burn, so too must the artist bring forth expression, whether with pen, paint, or voice. It matters not the medium—for creation is not bound by tools, but by the pulse of imagination. Her words remind us that true artistry is not confined; it is a spirit that leaps from one form to another, seeking always to give life to inner visions.

She speaks too of her beginnings with sketches on paper. Here we are reminded of the simplicity from which great journeys are born. The hand that first traced humble lines is the same hand that now weaves bold colors with acrylic and ink. This is the path of all masters: to begin with what is plain and available, and then to grow, to experiment, to let one’s art evolve like a tree, branching into ever-new forms. Yet she does not abandon the old ways completely—for even now, she returns at times to sketch, showing us that beginnings are not discarded, but cherished.

The mention of her impatience with oil paint reveals yet another truth: that art is not only about tradition, but also about temperament. Each medium has its demands—some require long waiting, others permit quick bursts of passion. Shah, by her own admission, does not linger for oils to dry; she prefers the immediacy of ink, the swiftness of acrylics. In this we see the honesty of an artist who knows herself. It is a reminder that the path of creation is not about forcing oneself into molds, but about finding the tools that harmonize with one’s spirit.

History, too, offers us examples of this. The great Vincent van Gogh, though surrounded by traditions of oil painting, used his medium in furious strokes, impatient and urgent, pouring his soul into canvases that pulsed with energy. His art was not about perfection of method, but about urgency of expression. In like fashion, Shah’s confession is a testament that what matters is not how long a medium takes, but how well it captures the voice within. Art is not measured by patience alone, but by truth and passion.

The lesson for us is this: embrace your own creative spirit, and do not be chained by form. Whether you write, paint, build, or sing, remember that the medium is but a vessel. Do not despise the small beginnings, nor think yourself lesser if your chosen tool is simple. What matters is the fire within, the need to create, the refusal to let imagination remain silent. For creation is not the privilege of the few—it is the calling of all who wish to give shape to their inner world.

Practically, this means finding what stirs your heart and pursuing it without delay. If you cannot wait for the oils to dry, pick up the ink. If you lack canvas, draw on paper. If you cannot yet master grand tools, begin with what is at hand. But do not let impatience or limitation silence you. As Shah teaches, the important thing is to create—constantly, faithfully, urgently—for in creating, you come closer to the essence of life itself.

Thus her words resound across generations: “I am constantly in a need to create.” Let them remind you that to create is to honor the divine spark placed within every soul. Let them urge you to find your tools, however humble, and give form to your visions. For the world does not wait for perfection—it waits for honesty, passion, and the courage to create without ceasing.