There are billions of geniuses in this world, people who naturally can understand and conduct the most complicated theories of math, science -- things that frame our world and make sense of it, of the earth and sky and human body, and how all of these things correlate. And then there’s another type of genius -- as society and history have differentiated the two -- the artistic genius. The person whose mind and purpose in consumed by the creation of art, by integrating things they’ve witnessed and experienced into understandable forums: paintings, music, literature. I wish I could communicate the abilities of the arts. But even if I did, it wouldn’t compare to the abilities of a scientist. At least in today’s world. Because what a scientist can produce explains how the world works, a doctor saves lives. But an artist does this, too. Just in a different way. Different shouldn’t be overlooked, though.

The truth is, these two kinds of geniuses work similar functions, just in different contexts. I’m sure Dave Grohl never had to perform open heart surgery. But I’m sure somewhere, one dark and starry night, a boy walked into his concert hall looking for answers. Looking for the words, the music, the art that would buy him one more night. “Art is the western myth with which we console ourselves, and make ourselves.” I will always remember this quote from "On Beauty," by Zadie Smith, one of the most explorative novels of this idea. I have always felt a bit immeasurable, incomparable to the kids gifted in biology, calculus, or chemistry in high school. They spoke a different language I didn’t understand. My knowledge and opinions and thoughts lied in novels, in between the pages of books and notebooks. I didn’t want to configure chemical equations or algebra. I wanted to figure out the puzzle of words, and how words turned into sentences, and how sentences turned into something greater. I somehow find this inferior to my friends, who major in biomedicine and will someday be engineers. They will be furthering human’s knowledge of the world -- the things we can see, the way things work -- and what will I be doing? Making up stories in my head and writing them down?

Maybe my friends will discover grand, extravagant things that change our understanding and view on the earth. And maybe I won’t find the cure to cancer, or invent something astronomic. But I will be the words behind hospital doors that keep people smiling and fighting. I want my words to work together in a bigger way to bring security, joy, and what we all look for in the arts -- answers. But I also want them to bring power. The same power these massive discoveries bring today. I want to change and affect our world in great ways.

Maybe I just won’t be wearing a lab coat while doing it.