Steadying the Ship
Plimsoll Lines and reflecting on six months of writing about creative practice...
I have two small tattoos on my forearms. They are very simple, the linework not particularly skillful, acquired spontaneously in a walk-in tattoo studio a few years ago. One reminds me that I can do anything, and the other reminds me that I can’t do everything. I’ve been reflecting on these two symbols a lot as I approach the 6-month mark of publishing here weekly.
On my left arm is the symbol of infinity. On the right, a Plimsoll Line. For years I’d drawn these two symbols together in my daily planners, journals, sketchbooks, and studio journal. The infinity symbol is probably familiar to you, with its looping form. The Plimsoll line, a circle with a horizontal line cutting across it horizontally, is less known and has an interesting story.
Also known as the Waterline or International Load Line, the Plimsoll Line is painted on the sides of cargo-bearing ships. In 18th and 17th century Britain, greedy merchants often overloaded their ships which increased the risk of sinking in a storm. These ships were often over-insured, so a capsized ship would make a large profit for the owner and investors while resulting in massive loss of life of the crew. These ships came to be known as “coffin ships”. In the 1860s, after a significant increase in these shipping tragedies, regulations were introduced by a member of Parliament named Samuel Plimsoll. As a result, new laws required the large circular symbol, which came to be called a “Plimsoll Line”, be painted on the exterior sides of ships, positioned so that the horizontal line met the water, indicating a proper and safe load, one that would not capsize the ship in a storm or rough waters.
Each of us has an internal Plimsoll Line, one that lets us know when we’ve overloaded our ship. I’ve definitely felt this way at times since beginning Practice and Curiosity and at the same time, I feel pretty great about publishing regularly for six months! I’ve been asking myself: When has it felt light? When has it felt heavy? When does the writing flow? How do I best support this project? How do I honor my limits? Sometimes I feel a sense of purpose and ease, other times I feel overly stressed, my capacity strained, and my internal Plimsoll line dips below the water. I’ve been tuning into what makes that difference for me. I periodically go through this questioning process with my studio art practice and always learn something valuable. In this case, how to subtly adjust my load and steady my ship. Thanks for being here— reading and questioning and practicing alongside me!
May we find joy in our making
May we find ease in our commitments
May our ships float calmly in the waters of our lives
This was an especially poignant and necessary read for me today. Thank you 🙏🏻 💖