A path through two or more points (compare ‘segment’); a continuous mark, including as made by a pen; any path, curved or straight.
Art is full of lines. Not just drawn lines, but the butting up of two planes, the edge around a bowl, the contour of a shape. Lines hold the tension in a piece, they convey movement, direction, or just a barrier. They contain and they exclude.
Some of my work has literal lines, like in the nickel portion of A Circuitous Course, but the intersecting parts each have the lines of their edges curving around each other creating both form and movement.
Akimbo has the lines of the tabs, the lines of the abutting parts, the lines of the edges, and those of the handles and legs jutting out into space. They propel the teapot and give it a forward motion. They draw your eyes in different directions.
Lines also give emotion and idea. The nuances of movement and tension can help give impressions. In pieces like Vortex, all of the lines curving up and around make the bowl seem to spin. There is a lift and frenzy that is hinted at.
In sumi-e, a master can use a single line to depict a horse running. That’s the power of impression. You can capture the spirit of a thing or an idea in a single stroke. While I create objects with no actual mechanics, I also think about the motion they have. They are solid, but never static. That is the power of a line.