Like many high school students, I often find myself mindlessly releasing suppressed imagination through cursory pencil illustrations in my notebook. Unlike most high school students, however, I take pride in every single one of my creations – every figure, character, object, contraption, or indecipherable mass of scribbled lines – regardless of how trivial or meaningless it might initially appear. Sometimes I flip through the pages of an old notebook for the sole purpose of observing the unending series of sketches looming in the margins, and often I can perfectly recollect the exact moment an idea first entered my imagination. I recall one example from my United States history notebook: upon learning President Dwight D Eisenhower ordered the racial integration of Little Rock High School in 1956, a spark of mathematical wit ignited, and now on that very page you can find the clever sketch of our thirty-fourth president affixing a Leibniz integration operator to a small boulder-like object labeled “High School.” However, the origins for some – such as the six-armed wizard in my eighth grade Italian binder or the winged elephant dancing in the margins of my chemistry notes – are not quite certain. Although most people might consider