Privacy, imagination and voting

It's 3pm the day before Elections. I shall tell you that the sun is shining outside with rain clouds not far away on the horizon; that I'm alone at home writing this, and that this is a moment of blessed privacy. Soon, I'll get into my car and step into the communal chaos of an election campaign.

Being an artist in Malaysia, you're always wondering about your own usefulness. It seems there's an outer realm of reality (can we say politics?), and then there's an inner world of unassailable privacy in which you create (could we call it art?). The two aren't necessarily mutually exclusive. In fact, things get interesting when they overlap.

I don't know much about politics, but I do know quite alot about imagination. Now, I can't be sure, but it seems to me that imagination can't exist without privacy. One strange effect of this election period that I have observed is a steady taking over of the communal into the private. What I mean is, when you write, you'll think about who is reading; when you act, you'll wonder what it's for. You think bigger than yourself. You attach to a community, a team, a party. Your ballot resurrects and reaffirms your place as a member of society.

This past week has confirmed in me, stronger than ever, the place of imagination in every part of life and society. Without it, it means that no one has a space in which to be themselves. We become issues, and worse, language dies for us. This is the one thing I'll hold on to as I step out to vote, because it makes me calm to think that voting need not be divorced from imagination. That in spite of all the campaigning, voting is a deeply private act. In that moment I'll act as myself and not for any party or person. It's worth more than 'making it count', and imagination accompanies every X like a hope or a prayer.