Sheffield artist Felicity Hoy specialises in images of strong and sexy women

Wherever they are, the works of the Felicity Hoy, the Sheffield-based artist are hard to miss-the colours are so bright, the lines so bold, and they nearly all feature women.

Mulan, By Felicity Hoy

Mulan, By Felicity Hoy

 

“I draw badass women, sexy and strong”, said she.  As young as 26, Hoy has already established herself a name of independent artist who is commissioned by businesses of all sorts.

In her work, the snow-white is not fragile,  Mulan is not exhausted , the little mermaid is not enigmatic–they are strong, cheerful, and even a bit evil: the snow-white offers the huntsman’s heart,  Mulan sees no need to hide her curvy figure and claw-like fingers, the mermaid reveals sail boat tattoo on her slender, half-naked waist.  The strong and sexy women are her trademark.

Prior to becoming a full-time artist, Hoy travelled extensively in Asia where she re-encountered her own passion for art and started to draw things like the Forbidden Palace and all kinds of people. “Before that I had done an art foundation course at school, it had taught me how to think differently about thing, but my university degree was in Film and Media,” said Hoy.

At the end of her journey Hoy moved to Australia and there she was inspired by some tattoos work featuring Disney princesses . One year after she returned to her home in Sheffield and her artistic energy exploded into drawings of fantasy and femininity that are immensely pleasurable and satisfying to look at.

At first she was working-full time in an engineering company.” I was basically doing my art every single night, because of that job of my I started to teach myself how to use Adobe Illustrator. I also learned Photoshop, and my art started to progress gradually,” she said.

At the beginning, Hoy would spend several hours even days working on her large composition, revelling in the searching quality of the lines, making sure all of them were connected. Then she scanned the script and coloured all the blocks. She taught herself using the colouring software, and in this process of learning she developed her own style that addresses to the human heart. Now she has become a more efficient and accurate illustrator who is able to put more details and depth into her art and accomplish really complicated drawings quickly and accurately.

Apart from the delightedness and pleasure in her art, one can also read a dose of reality in them. “my drawings go against the whole ‘I wanna get married and live in a Castile’ thing, said Hoy, “Because that is not true, women should strong and beautiful and sexy.”

 

 

What it is like to be living in and moving out of Hanoi-I

In two days I am moving out of a country, probably for good.

Two years ago my boyfriend moved to Hanoi, since then the city has been my destination during all holidays. For the first time in my life I had two Christmas lunches at one same restaurant with more or less the same group of people; and when weather gets cold I found clothes from the last winter to put on, every sign suggests Hanoi is home now, and we are leaving.

Our apartment is in one of the tallest building in Hanoi, from the bedroom window we can see as far as the bridge on the outskirt of the city–The poor thing has been wrapped by yellowish light bulbs since late December, along with many tress and bushes. The apartment building is allegedly to be one of the best in the city (even country) with a monthly rent at 1,000 USD, and this fare includes the water marks in the bathroom ceiling, were splits on bedroom wall, constant roaring noise from the fume extractor in the kitchen as if there is a storm going on in that micro world.

Overtime, my attitudes toward our cockroach flatmates have transformed from jumping and screaming to calmly watching them running around alongside my barefoot while brushing my teeth over a sink where I always bump my head to the water tap. But a recent encounter with a small lizard swiftly glided through my glass shower door still triggered some heart-wrenching crying for help from me.

The expensive rent might also be found worthy in that our bathroom smells delicious, literally I mean delicious. It is the smell of real traditional Vietnamese cooking: combination of meat, spice and fresh herbs. It was initially surprising to know that our bathroom vent fan is connected to someone’s kitchen, then it became concerning wondering whose toilet is our kitchen connected to.

But it is in all these ridicules that I enjoyed the city more and more each day, despite I was almost choked by second-hand smoke in a bar last night, and I think it needs a bit explanation.

It was a shabby cuban bar with decent Latino music. The manager is a guy from cuban who twist his tongue when saying “America”. The place was only open for eight months and was somehow the only place to go after late at night.

There is this government regulation for clubs and pubs in Hanoi saying that all must shut down before midnight, and they do try to carry it out by sending out police patrols to each place. Most of the time those police could be bribed, by amount from 10 USD to 100 USD, depending on the capacity of the venue. Some other times, pub landlords or club managers have to actually clear everyone out and close the place until two hours later, and re-open the place again, regardless of the bribes. And there are times when bribing and faking close do not move the Hanoi night police, then the only way to do business is to enclose the customers inside the bar, turn the volume of music down, shut down the iron curtain from the outside and cheat the police into driving pass the place without realizing that behind the wall there are bunches of drunken westerners.

photo

Last night was such a night when Hanoi police were particular determined to crack down such illegal behavior as to open a bar after midnight. We got on the scooters after being driven out from one club called Cowboy at around midnight, made an attempt to go to a bar that we have been to, only to find  that it was also closed, and the scooter driver recommended the cuban place. We were dropped off in a quite ally, someone was there to meet us but asked us to keep quiet. We lined up and walked into small parking lot, where we could vaguely hear music and talking. Following the man we walked up two floors and then behind a closely shut dark glass door it was the bar. A place of about 6 square metres and all windows shut. A dozens of people were already there drinking and smoking, and my dear friend started a very pleasant conversation on how people in Philippine de-skin and roast and eat giant rats: I almost puked.

 

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