The phrase "arresting shape" is correct and usable in written English.
It can be used to describe a shape that captures attention or is striking in appearance.
Example: "The sculpture had an arresting shape that drew the eyes of everyone in the gallery."
Alternatives: "captivating form" or "striking silhouette".
In a few places the ghetto walls still stand, and they have an arresting shape — alternating grooves at the top look like headstones.
Swagger buildings are distinguished either by exceptional size (the Woolworth Building and the Empire State Building), novel or arresting shape (Frank Lloyd Wright's original Guggenheim Museum), or by some dazzling but purely symbolic gesture (as with Wright's dream of a mile-high skyscraper).
The arresting shape is the lead story here, no question.
For as the stories stream our way, twisted into arresting shapes by our all-but-concealed guide, we come to believe in a world ruled by the great lawless god Id.
From a heavy steel restroom overlooking Norway's scenic Moskenes Island, to a transparent ferry port with a distinctive, U-shaped roof both of which were nominated for the Mies van der Rohe European Union Prize for Contemporary Architecture their work transforms humble briefs into arresting shapes uniquely suited to their site and purpose.
In the wild, pin oaks grow well along woodland edges but can also be found in the dense inner forest, where the tree's canopy may take any number of arresting shapes, reaching out here or there to capitalize on available light.
For "Bluebeard," he has created a series of arresting shaped backdrops on which video images can be projected.
The wrappers are the most eye-catching element of the Guggenheim design, but it would be a mistake to think the project's importance rests entirely on Mr. Gehry's ability to sculpture arresting shapes.
In terms of sheer visual inventiveness this movie occasionally rivals Mr. Burton's "Nightmare Before Christmas," twisting familiar themes and images into odd and arresting new shapes.
There are few other tenor saxophonists who can deliver his kind of top-to-bottom exploration of the horn and constant play of contrasting solo ideas, with arresting interval shapes and unfolding moods; he made long solos justify themselves.
In "A Live Cat Is Very Different From a Dead One," for instance, crisply painted rough horizontal bands march across the canvas in arresting mixes of shapes, symbols and colors -- black, white, blue, rust red, yellow -- in which the stylized cat's face can clearly be read.
