Hokusai vs Van Gogh: should the artist chase the wave or the fire within?

I drew ten thousand things until my hand obeyed the wave, not my mood; patience, not passion, made my Great Wave stand forever.

But your wave is frozen, Hokusai—I paint so the cypress writhes and the stars boil, because I feel them more than I see them.

You burn too fast, Vincent; had you waited until seventy, you might have drawn a single line worthy of the mountain.

And had you loved as fiercely as you observed, old master, your Fuji might have wept instead of merely standing still.