Penny had recently finished her masters at Glasgow School of Art. She gained a masters with distinction and was very intelligent and talented. Despite the masters, the intelligence and the talent, Penny had been applying for artist residencies and getting nowhere. Didn’t they know that she was one of the most talented artists in her class? Penny was at a loss of what to do. She applied for over ten residencies and didn’t get any of them. Penny cried and cried in her modest Govanhill tenement flat. One evening one of Penny’s friends invited her to a Grant Morrison talk at the CCA. Penny had no plans so she went along even though she did not care much for that nerdy comic book BS. Penny was too evolved as an artist to actually draw. Penny and her friend took their seats. Grant Morrison began to speak about Sigil Magic and detailed a ritual where one had a wish or desire and created a Sigil- a symbol created out of the consonants of the statement of the person’s wish and then masturbated with the image fixed in their mind. This would lead to the person getting what they wanted. This caught Penny’s attention. She thought she could use this Sigil Magic ritual to get into a residency programme. She had been eyeing up the Biennale Internationale residency and the deadline was approaching. This residency would allow Penny to live in Venice for 5 weeks and create art. Penny began to plan the ritual. “Hmmm how did it go again? The first consonants of each word of your desire or something?” she thought to herself. She wrote Biennale Internationale- B I. “This should be easy enough to create a symbol out of these initials.” Penny layered the letters over each other in her notebook. She had her symbol. “Huh so I’m meant to wank to this symbol? Not very sexy...I suppose the B kinda looks like a pair of tits…” Penny thought to herself. Penny was lying on her bed in her fluffy pink dressing gown and began to touch herself using her spit as lubricant. The ritual required Penny to climax. She moved her hand vigorously looking at the symbol. Penny began to think about the residency- her walking around Venice, drinking prosecco, eating pasta, discussing the writing of Antonio Gramsci, riding on a Gondola! Penny began to orgasm and forced herself to stare at the symbol as she peaked. Penny let out a sigh and felt instantly relaxed. That evening Penny sent off her application. Interviews were taking place next week so she should hear back soon. Later that week she received a call from her parents. They were building an extension on their house and couldn’t afford to pay her rent anymore. She’ll have to get a job. “How am I supposed to do my art and apply for residencies?” She shrieked back at them. Penny reluctantly set up a LinkedInn. I can always get a job as a curator, she said to herself. Penny checked her inbox each day waiting for a response regarding the residency. Finally she got a response. She began to read it out loud. “Thank you for your application for the Biennale Internationale Residency programme. We received a high number of applications and unfortunately you-FUCK!” she screamed. “Ugh well that ritual must have been a load of bullshit. Grant Morrison should give me a refund.” Penny moped about for days but knew she needed to apply for jobs. The weeks went by and all she received were rejections. She was rejected by CCA, DCA, GSA, ECA and the COOP! She was getting nowhere and began to run out of money. She was desperate for a job. Then one day, Penny received a message on her LinkedIn. It was from BT recruitment. “Hi Penny. We viewed your profile on LinkedIn and would like to offer you a role at our new call centre just off Sauchiehall Street. It’s an immediate start date.” “Oh my god, call centre work!” she cried to herself. Penny knew she had no choice but to take it. Penny called her friend crying about how she was going to have to work at BT. “What has my life become? Call centre work! I guess I’m working class now!” “I thought you were working class?” Penny’s friend replied. “No, I mean actually working class Harriet! Not art school working class!” Penny hung up the phone and sat on her bed. How had her life come to this? 5 years of Higher Education to work at BT! Penny began sorting through all the crap on her bed. In amongst the pile of Susan Sontag and Joan Didion books. Penny found her notebook. It was open on the page with her Sigil Magic ritual drawn out on it- the B layered over the I. Penny looked closer at the bottom horizontal line of the I, it wasn’t very defined as her pen was running out so it looked a bit like a T. B-T. “B Fucking T!” Penny shouted. Penny had created a Sigil wishing for British Telecoms. Be careful what you wank for!