Artists often talk about “the power of line”. For example,
here is the
blurb
for a recent
volume
of essays, The Power of Line: Linea III:

There are no lines in nature — they are always the creation of
humans,
manifestations of human action, perception, and design. Lines can divide
or connect, may be static or full of movement, and represent and create
forms in space and time. And in many cultures, lines take center stage in
science, art, writing, drawing, and construction. Employing a vast array
of academic perspectives, this fascinating collection delves into the
phenomenon of the line, as well as the power it holds for us.

From the history of art and science to philosophy, the essays in
The Power
of Line elucidate the semantic and conceptual depth of the line in
European, Asian, and Islamic cultures. As they trace the continuity and
transformation of the line over the course of centuries, the authors not
only reveal it to be a constitutive element in architecture, art, and
writing, but also uncover its importance as a medium of expression in both
choreography and the scientific and technological fields. With copious
full-color images, The Power of Line is a captivating exploration
of the
line as an essential artistic and cultural means of expression.

But what do artists mean by this? I know few
who have described their own reactions to line,
and many non-artists who look puzzled when I
discuss it.
In
this essay, I set out my own experiences.
Some of these may arise from quirks and
cross-connections of brain wiring that
we might not expect to find if our brains
had had a rational designer.

We can easily show that drawings are
about more than just the objects they depict.
Here are recent or current logos of
Labour, the Liberal Democrats, and the Conservatives,
England’s three main political parties: