Thursday, February 08, 2007


I believe it is white-out in the English language, typ-ex in Dutch, but the generally accepted word among Genevan economists was the Italian version. (For reasons that shall further remain undisclosed and that had nothing to do with our parody of the absolutely adorable Italian-english accent.*)

Blancina, the solution to mistakes, the friend of every neat-freak; blancina, the promise of whiteness to grey pencil smudges; blancina, here to cut us a break when we need it most.

The dream of a white page, a clean slate, a new start seems tempting in times of chaos. Leaving behind the old stories that drag behind, never quite resolved or resolving; the old mistakes made by me, unforgiven by me; the issues that got entangled and no longer seem to involve clean-cut choices.

During Madelyn's (my computer's) operation, a folder containing nine months of my writing accidentally did not get back-upped. And it makes me wonder. Most of the writing was a stream-of-consciousness, the last thing I did before going to sleep. So if I hadn't written those thoughts down, I would have never owned them in the first place. Will I miss them now? I get attached to my little bits of writing, but some of my own thoughts are hard to read back, too. Do I want a white page, an empty writing folder, when I am handed one?

*NB: in order to practice Italian-English, pretend you are singing an opera while you try these: 'yez-hhh' (yes), Bud Áaan-ah (But Hannah, seriously, what do you think you are doing with your life?), blan-Céé-nah (white-out),

1 comment:

Anna said...

And when even blancina fails, there is always the black-out. What previous mistakes? What track record? We are anew.

As for Madelyn- your writing is still there, in her subconscious memory, influencing all the writing you will do from now. Just like what you wrote is still under the blancina, only you don't see it.