Last night was the official opening of the Sydney Writers Festival, which began with an impassioned and lightning-sharp address by Jeannette Winterson at the Sydney Opera House. She danced between Picasso and politics and poetry with a dazzling athleticism of mind. Her wide-ranging talk was dense with ideas and unexpected connections between global and personal experiences, making her case that creativity and the creative life is at the heart of all human endeavour, and the only thing that will ultimately save us as a species.

I don’t think Wendy Were and her board of directors could have asked for a better kick-off. My head is a little sore after the opening night party, but it was fun to see old and new friends.