Michele,
The accepted definition of "Artist" seems to change daily and vary from person to person. On one end of the continuum are the "true artists" (those whom most people would define as such---DaVinci, Bouguereau, Richard Lack, William Whitaker, for instance) and there are the "legends in their own minds" (and apparently in the minds of far too many others--Hockney, springs immediately to mind
) at the other.
Somewhere in the vast intervening space are the hordes of us attempting to make art on a daily basis, who've identified the benchmark for excellence and sometimes dispair that we might never reach it. Of course, few of us will ever be DaVinci's.
Are you an artist because some gallery in SoHo is willing to hang your work, because you turned a profit in three out of the last five income- taxable years, because you have won major contest prizes for your art?
It's funny. I have an eight year old neice who I believe to be an artist with all my heart. She has an sense of design uncanny for one so young, her draftmanship is also quite advanced, and there doesn't appear to be much else that excites her in the way that making art does. I have told her parents on many occasions that Nicole is a "true artist". I base that opinion on the belief that she has real artistic sensibilities, along with the passion to make beautiful images with paint and paper. So why is this definition not acceptable when it comes to myself?
Michele, your definition is certainly a healthy one. Whatever definition will allow one to stop fretting and keep working is probably best.
I'd still love to hear your opinion on my first observation: Are Artists (as a whole) "different"?