Innermost Self Revealed

I think that what one knits reveals something Secret about one's Innermost Self, and that scares me, because I only knit ugly, clunky things. And I can't stop doing it. Knitting is like listening to the synapses firing deep within the brain. Mine sound like this: chug, chug, clunk, clunk, chug-a-lug, clank, clank. And this music is definitely reflected in my "creations", as the sweater above cleary illustrates. I was searching for an alternative to Rowan Country yarn, whose colors I adore but whose heavy lanolin smell makes me turn red and headachy. So I found some half-wool, half-acrylic yarn by Lion Brand called Landscapes, of the same weight as my beloved Brown Sheep bulky, which is also smell-free and doesn't affect my overactive immune system. I fell for the name of one colorway, "Campfire," and bought up the three remaining balls on sale at Hancock Fabrics. Then I thought it would be a good idea to knit a top-down raglan (top-downs being this month's knitting obsession) hoodie in grey and orange stripes. Why? Why would I think this? This is the type of sweater that will only look good on a twig. Even my loving husband winces when I try The Thing on. I look like a cross between a jailbird and a crossing guard in it. And we won't even mention what it doesn't do for my figure. But I just can't stop, because of the aforementioned musically meditative synapses, and because top-down knitting feels like cheating, it's that much fun. I wish I could knit the gracefully colorful delights of 7-letter Deborah over at Ephemeral Chaos, but — sigh — my Innermost Self is obviously short on grace and color!