It's like the difference between doing a 9 feet long scroll painting vs, a small sheet of emotion expressed in tangled details. For the scroll you have to let your hands get dirty with paint, let your body touch the paper, let your hand move with the strokes... you gotta dance. That's the grace you owe to the work. Yet, the small sheet unravels itself in the delicateness of your breath as you get closer and closer to paper. Its intimacy is private, with the lines unraveling their message in tight constraints yet not feeling insignificant at all.
Whether big and passionate, or small and private, one is not better than the other.
Sometimes there is a calling for one, while sometimes the other is more attractive.
Each of them have their own grace, their own world. Comparing is generally a terrible and pointless idea.
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