My trajectory into worlds I never imagined back when I was a young anarcho-punk scumbag dole-monkey (or rather, dedicated ‘jobseeker’) continues. The latest place I unexpectedly find myself is on the cover of Granta magazine. Next thing you know, I’ll be eating buttered crumpets on a fucking punt, quoting Rimbaud and discussing weighty matters with like-minded aesthetes.
The painting reproduced on their undeniably top quality literary periodical is called Hurt Hill, and hopefully it won’t put anyone off buying Granta. If it does, don’t worry, they’ll be using someone else next time. But if, by any chance you’re interested in acquiring a copy, you could either go to a bookshop or to their website, which be right here.