Mysteries of math, or seeking patterns where there seem to be none

I test well in math.

It's a peculiar trait, because I really don't understand it at all. When I get something right mathematically, it feels like calling out into a cavern and having the answer magically appear...a neurological Magic 8-Ball, if you will. Still, patterns make me happy. More specifically, identifying patterns makes me happy. It's like the Magic 8-Ball knows they're there, but gives me glimpses of the Bigger Picture. I know intuitively (left-brainers seem to hate that word) that if we were to zoom out enough, everything would settle into an identifiable pattern. Again, this makes me happy, which I assure you is no easy task. 

So this morning I fell into an Internet wormhole of pi and 3-spheres and toroidal conceptualizations and emerged knowing that I simply don't have the capacity to understand such things mathematically. This amazing human in Italy 3D-printed a hypersphere, and my heart sang, presumably in perfect resonance with the universe. Then it all dropped and shattered, because I remembered I can't math. 

Okay, to the point: does anyone have the remotest interest in collaborating with me on something math-based but rendered traditionally (i.e., painting, hand-sculpting)? Chances of failure are probably pretty good, and I can't actually pay you except in art, and you might get disgusted with my lack of understanding of such things as oh, ALGEBRA. Then again, it could be a step towards (brain) hemispheric harmony and creating peace with our neurological vulnerabilities. (I'm leaning toward the former, but don't listen to me, I'm a confirmed pessimist.)