I’ve been thinking about ants recently, and the wisdom of the colony versus the seemingly mindless wandering of the individual ant. And thinking about my own recent mindless wandering. Where’s my colony? I have some other writers and artists with whom I interact, but the power of the ant colony is the actual number of interactions, the multitude of brief exchanges of basic information. These exchanges create the impulse in the colony to act as one, or to, in the face of danger, not act. A recent “On Point” was discussing the tension between the American myth of rugged individualism and the idea of (if you’ll pardon this expression, which makes me gag, as much as I may believe in its idea) “it takes a village.” Ants are born into their community. As a creative person and essential introvert and rugged individualist, I’ve had to come by my creative community crab-wise and whistling insouciantly, as if I don’t need the very people I crave. I’m committed to increasing the number of times I bump and bumble among other creative people, so as to soak up some wisdom of the collective.