Three is a delicious number. De.Li.Cious. In general, I would say that odd numbers are far nummier than evens (and all numbers — every last mother’s son of ‘em — are better than four, which is an evil number of death and brussels sprouts and clowns that come for you in the night).
So to recap: I have affection for the number three. And to continue: I’m rather fond of the triangle. I like the FatherSonandHolyGhostness of it. I like that while some triangles are symmetrical, some are not, and, altho’ I tend to favour asymmetry over symmetry because I like the challenge of a-’s weirdness, I am woman enough to comfortably say that a symmetrical triangle has delightments to offer. I like that the triangle is neat and orderly, even while working the (i)saucy(les) angle. Squares? They’re so, like … Squaresville, man. But a triangle has a modicum of minx mixed in with its angled propriety. Really, triangles are the naughty librarians of the geometry world. And lord, lord I do love me a naughty librarian.