Etherknitter

What to do if your hands are tied behind your back

Lorette has tagged me for the current book meme. 

Q: You're stuck inside Fahrenheit 451, which book do you want to be?

I would like to be Fahrenheit 451. In classic science fiction paradox, that means if the book is burned, then the story doesn’t exist, and the book isn’t burned. So I suspect that rather than choose between death by pyre or an insignificant existence, I choose brain-twisting survival.

Q: Have you ever had a crush on a fictional character?

When I was in high school reading Lord of the Rings, I was in love with Aragorn, son of Arathorn.  I still have the visceral memories of what that felt like. Watching Viggo Mortenson play the part was disappointing. The face and figure put to your fantasy is never as good as the amorphous gorgeousness in your mind. He wasn’t played quite as assured and confident as the Aragorn in the book. And who the hell was that Elf princess who was getting in the way? Liv Tyler? Puleeeeze.

Q: The last book you bought is:

Oh dear. I’m outed. More retail therapy. But to be fair, I’ve stored up this book purchase since December. Amazon delivered these goodies about two weeks ago:

Meditations from the Mat Rolf Gates
At Knit’s End Stephanie Pearl-McPhee
French Women Don’t Get Fat     Mireille Guiliano
Knitting for Anarchists Anna Zilboorg
The Snow Fox Susan Schaeffer
The Knitter’s Handbook Montse Stanley
Two Sweaters for My Father Perri Klass
Blink Malcolm Gladwell
Harvard Yard William Martin
Ask the Pilot: Everything You Need to Know About Air Travel Patrick Smith

Q: The last book you read: I finished two on the same day: Harvard Yard , and Wicked by Gregory Maguire. The New York Times Book Review roasted Maguire by calling him  "a literary recycler" who showed "little respect"  for "one of  America's most beloved classics of children's literature".  Get a life.  The book has sold over 1 million copies, and is a Tony Award winning musical (nominated for 10, won 3).

Q: What are you currently reading? I’m a dreadful dilettante. Knitting for Anarchists (Anna Zilboorg), French Women Don’t Get Fat (Mireille Giuliano), At Knit’s End (Steph), The Italian Renaissance (J. Plumb).

Q: Five books you would take to a desert island.

Lord of the Rings JRR Tolkien – This is a timeless epic. I reread it before the first movie came out.. It has not aged a day.

Sarantine Mosaic series Guy Gavriel Kay – This is the author selected by the Tolkien heirs to finish The Silmarillion. He has a gift for storytelling, character drawing, and prose. I’ve since read everything he has written post Tolkien. He creates settings in nontechnologic fantasy worlds, parallel to ancient settings in Spain, and the Middle East.

War and Peace – I have a copy. I bought it for $4. The road to hell is paved with intentions such as these. I’m sure reading this would be good for me. If it is the literary equivalent of Rachmaninoff, it will be beautiful, and unrestful.

The Knitter’s Handbook (Montse Stanley) – Of COURSE I’ve been shipwrecked with several of my WIPs. And of COURSE I’ve run into technical problems with them. So here is the source of all wisdom, between two covers, since I have to choose carefully here. It was hard to choose between this one and Buss’ Big Book of Knitting.

A complete Yoga text, illustrating poses, discussing mind-body yogic philosophy – Haven’t yet found this book, but I’m sure it exists. The desert island will be a difficult environment. I think this is a path to health, better function, and peace.

Q.  Who are you going to pass this stick to (3 persons) and why?

Purlsb4Swine because I enjoy her writing, and wonder what she would say.
Sparkomatic because she is also a librarian and would have a different take on this.
SaltwaterPurls because she has a querying mind, and might even enjoy this meme.

The Great Escape

The evidence is RIGHT here.  I live in chaos.  I was trying to shoot a picture of my totally cool knitting accessory, and managed to capture, well, everything else too.  It's the bedside table.  Want a tour?

The foggy yarn is the latest skein of Alchemy Synchronicity.  I've finished the first sleeve.  Maybe.  The pattern calls for an 21" length.  However, the Marla model in Hot Knits shows a sleeve length that is unseemly in my age cohort.  I measured the sleeve on a sweater my mother knitted.  It is 18", and the construction appears similar.  The Etherknitter is stumped.  So I will put it on another needle, knit the back, see how it joins to the sleeve, and decide on the correct length before I do the obligatory sleeve bind-off.

You can also see the pink Blush Joseph Galler cashmere yarn for the Yumi scarf.  I cast on today (also visible to the left of the pink yarn).  Knitting under pressure:  it must be done by the May 17th hardware removal date when she will be executing (maybe I should choose a different verb) a repeat performance of keeping the Etherknitter calm while a surgeon has at her AGAIN.

The really cool accessory is something I found to organize all the little disappearing knitting aids.  It is a pill container (seven compartments) from The Container Store.  Each little round unscrews separately so that you can pull out the slippery little suckers one by one (instead of all at once on the floor).   Squint hard, and you can see the Brittany cable needles, Tylenol, Neflix return, dead Diet Coke, pen, extra skein of cashmere....on and on....

I couldn't stay inside all day.  It's 69 degrees out there.  I had to do SOMETHING.  So I had the DH set up me by one of the planting areas.  You can see the wishful thinking involved in the throwing down of the crutches:

I then managed to scoot myself all the way around the parabola, edging and weeding by hand,  when the DH captured the elusive Etherknitter in the act:

I was chopping dead stems out of the oregano.  It's a rampant plant that shows no manners in where and how it grows.  It's like forsythia and wisteria, where only a strong hand can do what needs to be done.  For years, my plants walked all over me, until I hardened my heart, and saw that the pruner could be regarded as a constructive force rather than as a destroyer.  When I cut the oregano back, the new growth gets bruised in spots.  The aromas that waft to one's nose are heavenly.

The UPS man brought love this week.  I thought my DH and I were unique in making fun of retail therapy this way.  My cousin, who is a delivery guy for the Big Brown Truck, said it is a pretty universal term used often by UPSers, and their customers.  How have I loved me? Let me count the ways:

From left to right:  exquisite stitch markers, so I can learn to make my own.  Vineyard buttons, from Black Water Abbey yarns for a Jaeger sweater I'm planning.  Blueberry yarn, from Judy of Smatterings.  It is indescribably delicious.  Plymouth dpns, to complete my #0-7  collection.

Double standard?  No.  Despite my posts on external happiness folly, I don't use these to achieve that goal.  They are tools that further my knitting pleasure.  They aren't plugging a hole.  They aren't making up for the fact that I STILL won't get to MS&W this year.  REALLY.
That (MS&W) is more about relationships, and that is fodder for a different post.

Fiber, fiber everywhere, and not an inch to knit

The comments on yesterday's post far outreached what I expected.  They anticipated today's post, which will therefore be an affirmation of their thoughts, with some referential diversions.  (Maybe I should have simply said links.)

USA Today, to my amazement, printed an article of merit recently.  You have to get past the ridiculous title, and the first few paragraphs, before they start summarizing the literature, with a reference to Dr. Gilbert at the end.   The points that tie the article to a knitblog are:

1.  Materialism is toxic to happiness.
2.  Everyone has a setpoint for happiness.
3. " Life satisfaction occurs most often when people are engaged in absorbing activities that cause them to forget themselves, lose track of time and stop worrying."  Knitting, anyone?

The first point is becoming obvious.  We have to buy again and again in order to maintain the happiness from retail therapy.  Samuel Taylor Coleridge's 'Rhyme of the Ancient Mariner' made the Mariner feel compelled to tell his tale over and over again to new listeners:

Forthwith   this frame of mine was wrenched
  With a woeful agony,
  Which forced me to begin my tale sale;
  And then it left me free.

Since   then, at an uncertain hour,
  That agony returns:
  And till my ghastly tale sale is done,
  This heart within me burns.

Abraham Lincoln said, "Most folks are about as happy as they make up their minds to be."  In a much less psychologically sophisticated age, he spoke wisdom.  It's true now, also. 

One last quote from an article in the anesthesia literature on physician burnout:

"Unfortunately for most of us, nurturing our body, mind and spirit often becomes our lowest priority because we have not addressed so many of the  issues interfering with our day-to-day mental, physical and emotional health.  ...we ignore unmet emotional needs, physical fitness, and the pursuit of a healthy diet.  We give up our hobbies and outside interests because we do not have time, not realizing of course that these activities, not our work, are what really make us unique and interesting.  We lose touch with our spiritual selves, which in the end means that we frequently may lose who we are and why we get up in the morning."*

Whew.  I saved that from a November, 2000 publication.  I think it speaks for itself.

I think that's enough.  I will still buy yarn, as will you.   But I will be mindful.  And I will try to understand what I'm doing, and why.

Speaking of yarn, the Marla sleeve is more than half done.  Yes, it has been a very useful large swatch, but I am looking forward to starting the lacy front and back. 

My forsythia is in magnificent bloom.  I had pruner-guys hack the chit out of it last year for volume control (just like hair).  It is rewarding me with the best display in years.  The shadblows are a day or two away from their bi-seasonal magnificence.  (Their colors in the fall are not to be missed. )  I'll start with the garden pix as soon as something looks different from what other bloggers are posting.

*Jessie A. Leak, M.D., "Stress Management:  Slaying the Dragon", ASA Newsletter, 11/2000

Anticipay-ay-tion, it's keeping me waiting

I think bitter is too strong.

Remember how you felt when you were a kid?  When EVERYBODY was doing something you couldn't?  I feel left out.  Regretful.  Missing out.  But I'll get over it.  I have had zero success in predicting how I would feel about missing the gardening season.  About having unlimited time for knitting.  And about, theoretically, having lots of time to get my life (finally) organized.  I was thinking along similar lines when we were all talking about stash acquisition, and what holes it fills in our lives and our psyches.  I found some links that have all hung on the same mental hook for awhile.  Happiness seems  like a timely topic.  It's relevant to me, as I sit trying to get over my disappointment about not seeing bloggers, and fabulous yarn at MS&W.  And I'm sure it might apply to those who feel let-down despite seeing knitbloggers, and buying fabulous yarn.

The New York Times published "The Futile Pursuit of Happiness" in 2003.  Go over and read it.  I'll still be here when you come back.   It describes everything far better than I can.

Prediction of what will make us happy is unreliable:

"Gilbert and his collaborator Tim Wilson call the gap between what we predict and what we ultimately experience the ''impact bias'' -- ''impact'' meaning the errors we make in estimating both the intensity and duration of our emotions and ''bias'' our tendency to err. The phrase characterizes how we experience the dimming excitement over not just a BMW but also over any object or event that we presume will make us happy. Would a 20 percent raise or winning the lottery result in a contented life? You may predict it will, but almost surely it won't turn out that way. And a new plasma television? You may have high hopes, but the impact bias suggests that it will almost certainly be less cool, and in a shorter time, than you imagine. Worse, Gilbert has noted that these mistakes of expectation can lead directly to mistakes in choosing what we think will give us pleasure. He calls this 'miswanting.'  "

I've included a link to Dr. Daniel Gilbert's home page.  You can read the media's various dissections of what this Really Means.

I know that when I have an Amazon order in transit (like one that contains bookbookbook), and it takes FOREVER for it to arrive, I'm peeved.  Half an hour after I unpack the box, stack the books, and smile, I've moved on.  "What's next?"  "When is my Woodland Woolworks swift going to arrive?  What is TAKING it so long??"  Does this feel familiar?  Then it arrives, and I'm on to the next big thing.   I found a quote (probably an aphorism, actually), that summarized it well:

"Anticipation provides at least 50% of the pleasure of anything new."

Tomorrow, I think I can cast some light on the other side - what ARE the more real elements of happiness?  Hopefully, we are not left with just the dust of anticipation.  I'll find the links today, and we can continue these thoughts.  Make sure, while you are looking at Dr. Gilbert's page, that you check out  his frivolous links.  One of them fits perfectly into my habit of finding bizarre sites.  Ever want to know who is buried where?  Click through and look at another site developed by people with too much time on their hands.

In other (other?) knitting news. I'm finding that I was completely unsuccessful in predicting how happy the Alchemy Synchronicity was going to make me.  The yarn unravels as it is knit, and is a splitting nightmare.  The knit rows are easier than the purl rows, and I can't figure out why.  I've seen lots of knit-stuff on the web that trashes purling.  Y'know, knit in the round so you never have to purl.  (How could any knitter decide to hate 50% of the execution of their craft, and still call herself a knitter?)  I'm trying to figure out what is going on, and am making progress throughout the research:

And this is a picture of the flattening yarn losing not only its twist, but its integrity (NOW I'm bitter!):

It is a beautiful, cooler, more typical spring day today.  I'm going to see if the ground is firm enough for crutches, and see how all my growing friends are doing in the garden. 

Yes, I am now chopped liver

Normally, I keep my demonstration of ego under some modicum of control.  However.  Today, I was told that I was the yarn equivalent of Dishcloth Cotton.  WHAT?  I shouldn't even link you to that miserable quiz.  I saw it on someone else's blog this morning.  SHE was cashmere.  So I linked over, thinking that my yarn was going to be something exotic.  Quivuit, perhaps.  Unusual, luxurious, hedonistic - yes, that's me.  Instead, I get dishcloth cotton, annotated with
"You are a very hard worker, most at home when you're at home. You are thrifty and seemingly born to clean. You are considered to be a Plain Jane, but you are too practical to notice."  I suppose, given the choices, the bottom of the barrel would go to Novelty Eyelash yarn.  But then, it takes me only a few outraged blinks to back off and get a life.  Their algorithm clearly is flawed.  Quivuit wasn't even among the possible outcomes.

Knitting progress is measured in small increments.  I realized that since I have multiple new projects on multiples of needles, that I will not have any FOs soon.  I work a little bit here, a little bit there.  The end result has the appearance of no progress, even though I AM putting in the time.   Here is the husband swatch, which has been very difficult to catch on digital pix:

I'm ordering the yarn from my LYS, as the gauge is perfect.  Yeah, it's a DK sweater for a guy, but he really likes the pattern.  It's Rowan Wool Cotton (50% wool, 50% cotton) in a color called "Rich". 

The real WIP, my sweater, has also passed the big gauge swatch test.  That swatch is now being called a sleeve.  The color, texture, and sheen have been stripped from the picture, so you will have to imagine 50% silk, 50% merino, in Alchemy Synchronicity's color, Foggy Notion.  Purl has a decent picture of it on their website.

The alpaca scarf is showing real progress, the glovelets are crying piteous tears once again, as they are being ignored.  Some of the increases are too fussy, so I've been relaxing into the Marla sweater's big lazy garter ridge pattern.  That's a fancy synonym for stockinette with a bit of a tweak.  Maybe I am dishcloth cotton after all.

This post is one of the funniest blogposts I have read in weeks.  I got the link from Norma's sidebar.  My mother, for obscure reasons, loved bathroom humor.  I don't.  But this story had me laughing so hard in my surroundings, that the laptop almost hit the floor.  Go see what you think. 

Put your hands UP. You are SURROUNDED.

I am completely surrounded by STUFF.   On the right side of the bed, lies sprawled all the accessories necessary for a sane existence:  KnitLit (too), and Wicked, by Gregory Maguire are splayed out, spines in jeopardy, marking where I paused.  Two knitting projects at all times.  That includes WIP, needles, pattern, pencil, and notebook for keeping track of pattern rows.  The house phone perches on the top right corner.  My cell phone is on the bedside table to my left.  It is on top of pads of paper with my "To Do" lists, Woodland Woolworks and Patternworks catalogues, the latest issue of Interweave Knits (came yesterday), and bottles of the various pharmaceutical products I am obligated to use during this convalescence.  The floor to my left is covered, almost completely, with the day's mail, my backpack (for toting anything requiring hands), Barbara Walker's Stitch Treasury, a useless  set of bedroom moccasins, a copy of Hot Knits, all my DVDs, and the fannypack that has become my handbag.  The laptop is either reclining on my right, or on my lap. 

This has made recording WIPS via photo a bit dicey.  What I do for my blog!  (What I do for my ego!)  Last night, I was standing on one foot, trying to keep the camera steady.  The floor was my backdrop.  I struggled with the inescapable realization that neutral textural carpet does NOT show off knitting to advantage.  I did one shot where two would have been better.  Oh, fiddle dee-dee!  OCD means never having to let go of the pursuit of perfection.  The first WIP is the Irish Hiking scarf (Classic Elite Wings, pattern at www.helloyarn.com):

The yarn on the right has nothing to do with the scarf.  The pink (called Blush) is so subtle, that it barely showed up against the carpet.  It is nestling with the scarf for contrast, which has made it slightly pinker than it really is.  I have chosen a Barbara Walker pattern for the Yumi scarf (Yumi is the anesthesia resident who was present during the three hours of surgery, and the scarf will be a thank-you gift. )  The pattern is this:

Yumi is a petite woman, in her 40s.  She was trained in Japan, and has had to go through the entire residency (again) in order to be licensed in this country.  She is a quiet, polite, self-effacing woman, until you somehow notice, belatedly, that she is the Japanese equivalent of a steel magnolia.  This pattern seems to fit who she is.

Boredom with the scarf prompted me to pick up another project I had thrown down in a fit of pique two months ago.  Eric's Glovelets, in Louet Opal Merino, had become too fussy, too problematic.  I took a deep breath, thought of Margene, and jumped in.  Piece of cake.  Go figure.  LOVE the baby cable ribbing.  Here is the preview:

Tonight is knit group.  I AM going. 

I'm not lyin', there really IS a Fibonacci sequence

I was going to complain about how I got almost no degrees of freedom from the doc yesterday.  Instead, I think I will continue in the whacked-out post mode, since health complaints (especially elective ones) tend to have a short half-life. 

I thought this crochet model (from the website www.theiff.org) was a perfect metaphor for the way I'm feeling about knitting, my foot, and life in general:

I'm more visual than verbal.  This knitted convolution says it all.

In other news, it appears that we knitters continue to labour in obscurity and anonymity.  The Beacon Hill Times tried to right this wrong, without success:

This famous Boston statue,  in the Public Garden, became this:

  The accompanying editorial in the Beacon Hill Times can be found here.
It is about two-thirds down the page.  Another astute knitter (posting on March 21st) found the St. Patrick's Day version of the hats.  They mysteriously appeared, and just as mysteriously, vanished. 

Many bloggers post the unusual google searches that have brought readers to their blog.  I clicked through on a search recently, and found an incredible symposium.  Read through some of the lectures here.

Sharon Frechette's lecture covers aspects of Aran knitting that not one of us would have considered.   I think the best click-through was the Woolly Thoughts website.  They  base their patterns on mathematical concepts so that emotional harmony is achieved.  How can I tie math and emotional harmony together in one sentence, asks the curious knitter?  These concepts would explain feng-shui, and why something does or doesn't FEEL right.  We may be consciously unaware as to why something feels RIGHT, but we know it when we  see it.  This website, FuzzyGalore, talks about the Fibonacci sequence.   It is a patterning algorithm based on adding the previous two numbers together:

Start with 1, 1.  The next one in the sequence is 2.  Then add the prior two numbers:  1+2 =3.  So the sequence goes 1,1,2,3,5,8,13,21, etc.  The coolest part is that the website has a sock designed in Fibonacci sequence right on the first page, so you don't have to search for knitting on the page, through glazed eyes.  This page is worth reading through (despite the tiny font) because she uses the Fibonacci numbers to solve the problem of running out of yarn before a project is finished.

Honestly, it has been easier to web-search recently than to take pictures of my knitting.  There has been some progress in the yarn department here.  I will provide some of the concrete evidence tomorrow.  I can't promise any greater degree of sanity.

Yarn as Hyperbolic Space

I am not clever enough, or am I creative enough to make this one up.  My mother-in-law sent me a reference to a novel and unusual use of our fibery staple of everyday knitting.  I'm sure you will overlook the fact that the Etherknitter is definitively not a crochet blog.  And that these....these.....
THINGS are the demented objects of someone's crochet needles. 

I had the misfortune, on Wednesday, of losing my balance.  The choice I was presented with was either step on the operative foot, or fall.  I did a little of the former, and a great deal of the latter.  Today's trip to the hospital was to confirm that the bone had not shifted, the pins not bent.

After three x-ray views of my still non-weightbearing foot were done, I discovered that my surgeon was indeed a crafty devil.  While I was insensate and cooperative last week, he placed two #000 dpns in my big toe.  At least, that is what the x-ray showed.  I congratulated him on his recognition of my knitting obsession, and went home to find Purl had delivered two scrumptious skeins of Joseph Galler Pashmina, in the Pink Blush I ordered.  It cries out to be an eyelet pattern, or something lacey.  I can't figure out if the pins in my toe (which look for all the world like a cable symbol in a knitting chart) are responsible for my current cable craze.  Or if the holes thru which they were inserted are perhaps inspiring my thoughts of lace.

I spent the evening looking at weird internet sites.  Can't you tell?  If you have a reasonably strong stomach, try this Random Reality site.   I'll feel better tomorrow, honest.  All I need is a good night's sleep.

Yea-ah, baybeee, let's do the twist

The image of Chubby Checker has been going through my mind as I cable my way up the Irish Hiking scarf.  Yeah, just picture it, the image of  a fat black dude, swiveling his hips back and forth, doing the first dance to make it to the white mainstream that wasn't the foxtrot.   

I swatched some cables for Melissa Leapman's full-fashioning class last year.  I clearly did not examine them closely other than to say, "COOL!  Look what I did!" to my DH.  So when I did examine these babies closely, I noticed what every knitter has always noticed about cables.  The last stitch on the side the cables turn is looser.  Bigger.  And bigger ISN'T always better.  Chit, mon.   

So I hit the Internet.  And my knitting books.  The problem is clear:  the transition from the knit to the purl stitch leaves a longer stitch behind.   I have way too much time on my hands.  Here's the rundown:

1.  Cable Needle Freedom suggests that you pull the second purl stitch after the cable's last knit stitch more tightly.  And then on the wrong side, tighten the first purl stitch in each cable panel. That doesn't do squat. 

2.   Knitting for Dummies parrots a variation on this theme.  The author suggests knitting the first two purl stitches after the cable tighter than normal.  Abusing two purl stitches doesn't work any more effectively than abusing one. 

3.  Knitting for Dummies has probably realized that the preceding advice is worthless.  The next suggestion is to work the last stitch of the cable.  Bring the yarn in front, slip the next (purl) stitch, and continue knitting.  When you arrive at the slipped stitch on the next WS row, go into it as if to knit, and at the same time, go under the unworked strand on the right side.  With the tip of the LH needle, bring the slipped stitch over the strand, transfer the newly formed stitch to the LH needle in the ready-to-work position and knit it.  This looks like creating a dropped stitch without actually dropping it, then working it, all to make the first purl stitch after the cable panel tighter.  This doesn't work either.

4.  The website, Creative-Corner.net,  in a help forum, had this to say about switching between knit and purl stitches:  To purl the first stitch after the cable panel, wrap the yarn around the needle in the opposite direction.  Knit this stitch on the next WS row TBL.  This seems to be the most effective of a number of ineffective moves:

The gray arrows show the effects of pulling the stitches tighter.  No, I wasn't impressed either.  The red arrow shows a stitch done following tip #4.  It looks a little more tidy, a little less sloppy.

Does anyone else obsess about this sort of thing?  Is this a molehill?  Should I just muzzle it?  The earlier cables look a little better as the fabric experiences normal vertical and lateral stresses.  But they still aren't crisp and uniform.

My crocuses (zone 5) are up and screaming.  Huddling tightly together, living in fear of the next snowstorm, or cold snap, they are making the best they can of a New England spring.  Me, I'm just waiting for pink cashmere yarn, a brand new swift, a peacock shawl pattern, and ZephyrSilk yarn in marine blue.  There is a remote chance that I will NOT snarf all the chocolate I ordered from Chocosphere.com prior to gifting it to my surgical unit.  I want to thank them for taking such wonderful care of one of their own.

How knitting resembles Ballroom Dancing

One of our residents, Rebecca, heard I would be off my feet for awhile.  She assembled a group of DVDs for me, annotated each one with a descriptive note, and sent me on my surgical way.  It was a spectacular gift that I appreciate more and more each day.  The first post op day, all my brain could handle was "Best in Show".  I watched "Strictly Ballroom" this morning.  Rebecca's review:  "A little known Australian film from the early 1990's.  Total camp!  Both a fun 'you can do it' dance film and a send-up of the genre.  Just the awful hair and costumes alone are a reason to watch".

The basic plot is that a defined set and order of steps are required for success in ballroom dancing competition.   (Read the review for the twist.)  I'm knitting cables right now.  I am amazed at how a simple stitch manuever once every eight rows forms something as complex as a cable.  Knitting seems to rely on a series of stereotyped moves that, taken together, form complex patterns.  If you deviate from the moves, the pattern is altered.  For example, a simple mistake like letting the cable needle twist will alter the design.  Put a knit stitch where a purl stitch should be, and the design is different.  Ballroom dancing is the same.  What is rewarded is what is "correct".  Patterns are less subjective than judging dance routines, and knitters don't have to dress up or do their hair.  Creativity within certain boundaries is rewarded in each discipline.  Whoever thought up FairIsle techniques was a genius.  The person who created intarsia was simply confused.  The cable person was creative and ingenious.  The lace people were masochistic obsessive-compulsive prodigies.

I was reminded of the pomp and circumstance  associated with ballroom dancing when I went to the TKGA conference last July.  (Today is the last day of the 2005 version in Valley Forge, Pennsylvania.)  Watching Lily Chin model her poncho on the stage, in her signature pose:
   The moment had all the contrived imagery, fake drama, and "we already knew who was going to win" suspense of the dance world.

And speaking of drama, here is the start of the Irish Hiking scarf: