A point may sit at the very center of a circle, or assymetrically off toward an edge, somewhere in the enclosure of the circumference of the circular. When centered it seems stable, focalized, focused, with all eyes looking inward from the edge, from the extreme, from the skin. But the point that sits away from center seems more dynamic, expresses movement, wants out as it moves toward the membrane that is enclosure. As it travels it leaves tracks in its wake, a “line” of tracks, maybe meandering , curvilinear signposts for trackers to track, or eyes to follow, from point to point, or beyond a demarcation of points into infinite necessity. And then, this line rolls over itself, tips along the way, creates surfaces, planes, tables and mesas, buttes, and seats for butts. Tripping again into three dimensions, volumes appear, cubes and spheres and all matter of solids, or hollows with metes and bounds, architectonic opportunities, trees and inverted trees, valleys and ridges, bodies on two and four legs. Color enraptures, qualifies, makes distinct possibility, draws us into an emotional envelope, washes over us like spring water, filled to overflowing with mineral rich substance, solid, liquid, gas.
How might we translate this into design? How might the landscape obviate point, line, plane? What already exists, pre-designer? What language does this landscape speak? What textures: rough, smooth, or something in between? Does the mighty oak at the center (point) spread it’s branches (line) to the extremes and its trunk (volume) encircle what might better serve as a fruit bearing guild of shrub, small tree, pumpkin patch? Or have we not yet tasted the delicate acorn?