<?xml version="1.0" encoding="UTF-8"?><rss version="2.0"><channel><title>Christopher English - Online Art Gallery - Artist Portfolio</title><link>http://www.artq.net/ArtistWork.asp?artist_id=FFARD140289645012030</link><description>Christopher English - Online Art Gallery - Artist Portfolio</description><language>en-us</language><pubDate>Thu, 30 Apr 2026 02:07:32 PST</pubDate><item><title><![CDATA["Bird and Flowers"]]></title><link>http://www.artq.net/ArtView.asp?artwork_id=CJMP541089648021045</link><description><![CDATA[Oil colour on canvas.
<br><img src='http://www.artq.net/artImages/5/BHWO541089648021045.jpg'><br>]]></description></item><item><title><![CDATA[Flowers and peacock feathers in a mirror]]></title><link>http://www.artq.net/ArtView.asp?artwork_id=ETMG541089648526451</link><description><![CDATA[Drawing in coloured chalks
<br><img src='http://www.artq.net/artImages/1/OBSY541089648526451.jpg'><br>]]></description></item><item><title><![CDATA[Colour Life Drawing]]></title><link>http://www.artq.net/ArtView.asp?artwork_id=FIIU541089649511417</link><description><![CDATA[Colour Life Drawing
created using chalks and pastel<br><img src='http://www.artq.net/artImages/6/QNHK541089649511416.jpg'><br>]]></description></item><item><title><![CDATA["Cups and saucers among bottles".]]></title><link>http://www.artq.net/ArtView.asp?artwork_id=GMFA541089648534230</link><description><![CDATA[Still life painting.
Oil colour on canvas.<br><img src='http://www.artq.net/artImages/0/QULS541089648534230.jpg'><br>]]></description></item><item><title><![CDATA[Door face - Shield]]></title><link>http://www.artq.net/ArtView.asp?artwork_id=AQEA54108964753003</link><description><![CDATA[DREAM LANDSCAPE.
Sometimes, the mellow flame of memory
Flickers from that furnace of my heart.
A potent force spills
Over into a volcanic froth,
And I am aglow within,
Turning myself inside out into
the realm of dreams,
where you always were;
And there you are always.

My fantasy swan, a graceful beauty
That is indeed a reality
In make believe; so, like a fool,
I pine inside, for a memory.
Myself, a two faced clown
Not showing how I feel.
Instead, in dreams and in so called "reality"
I hide behind doors and shields<br><img src='http://www.artq.net/artImages/3/TCUZ54108964753003.jpg'><br>]]></description></item><item><title><![CDATA[Girl in a green dress]]></title><link>http://www.artq.net/ArtView.asp?artwork_id=IGBL541089649034219</link><description><![CDATA[Portrait painting
Oil colour on primed A1 size paper<br><img src='http://www.artq.net/artImages/8/EYZD541089649034218.jpg'><br>]]></description></item><item><title><![CDATA[Forest of Trapeze Swings.]]></title><link>http://www.artq.net/ArtView.asp?artwork_id=MAZY541089648517425</link><description><![CDATA[
Forest of Trapeze Swings.

Do you swing from one desperation
To another
In a forest of trapeze swings,
Where creatures jostle among the trees
To survive in life.

Or is life for you a cosy world,
Full of inviting hands,
Open arms and legs, strong enough to hold
All the weight you need.

One can not fly alone for long,
Even though the momentum forces of freedom
Can carry you for just a little while.
Is there a safety net always below for you,
Already full of many pampering cushions
In an assumed world of normality.

Are you confident enough, lucky enough
To have someone always there to catch you,
So much so that the thought of falling
Has never even occurred to you,
Making you oblivious to the plight
Of others.
 
c Christopher English 
 

<br><img src='http://www.artq.net/artImages/5/TBUC541089648517425.jpg'><br>]]></description></item><item><title><![CDATA[Bottle and apples]]></title><link>http://www.artq.net/ArtView.asp?artwork_id=MHDF541089649026438</link><description><![CDATA[Still life
Oil colour on canvas<br><img src='http://www.artq.net/artImages/8/ZBXT541089649026438.jpg'><br>]]></description></item><item><title><![CDATA[Self portrait]]></title><link>http://www.artq.net/ArtView.asp?artwork_id=MUHD541089649522240</link><description><![CDATA[Self portrait
created using indian black ink<br><img src='http://www.artq.net/artImages/0/TAHQ541089649522240.jpg'><br>]]></description></item><item><title><![CDATA["OPEN CUPBOARD"]]></title><link>http://www.artq.net/ArtView.asp?artwork_id=NMTT541089648017447</link><description><![CDATA[Cupboard in my studio. A still life painting<br><img src='http://www.artq.net/artImages/7/SAMJ541089648017447.jpg'><br>]]></description></item><item><title><![CDATA[A DUEL- Metamorphic landscape]]></title><link>http://www.artq.net/ArtView.asp?artwork_id=NRPC54108964853629</link><description><![CDATA[A DUEL
Once, there was a duel.
Men with pistols met at sunset.
The sun and the moon
Faced each other
Above a field of long shadows.
Beneath the masks
Of the drunken faces
Each was afraid,
Which one would sink
Into the darkness.

c Christopher English<br><img src='http://www.artq.net/artImages/9/CWWO54108964853629.jpg'><br>]]></description></item><item><title><![CDATA["HAPPY BIRTHDAY"]]></title><link>http://www.artq.net/ArtView.asp?artwork_id=NTBR541089648027033</link><description><![CDATA["HAPPY BIRTHDAY" 
Oil colour on canvas<br><img src='http://www.artq.net/artImages/2/BJNE541089648027032.jpg'><br>]]></description></item><item><title><![CDATA[The Anchor and Kite]]></title><link>http://www.artq.net/ArtView.asp?artwork_id=PZYF541089648032430</link><description><![CDATA[The kite as mask, masked by life,
Pampered by normality, moaned like a pet.
He remembered those from his past, people who knew
Depression was a luxury they could not afford.
And in the present, noticed those who complained the most
Had the least wrong with them,
and those who complained the least had the most.

So my strength was drawn from the forsaken,
and from those forgotten.
Not from those whose life was so full of expectancy.

In comparison what did I want?
The life of a floating clown, adrift without anchor, had no meaning.
Having the mask of agility, a life granted by the grace of ability.
So dreams become true.Yes. Was the answer instinctively,
As nature is only designed to survive.
Though only the anchor within my heart behind the mask
Really means anything.

c C. English<br><img src='http://www.artq.net/artImages/0/KBHK541089648032430.jpg'><br>]]></description></item><item><title><![CDATA["OVEN OF DREAMS"]]></title><link>http://www.artq.net/ArtView.asp?artwork_id=PZZY541089648531223</link><description><![CDATA[Oil colour on canvas.
<br><img src='http://www.artq.net/artImages/3/ILQX541089648531223.jpg'><br>]]></description></item><item><title><![CDATA[Jags of flint jutting from the rocky ground]]></title><link>http://www.artq.net/ArtView.asp?artwork_id=QLAQ541089648523440</link><description><![CDATA[Drawing in coloured chalks
on paper.[For my poem 'Fire on Beacon Hill]exstract:
In the days before, we made many visits to the forest
To walk among the ground ivy and heather.
Walking up high slopes, passing aged oak trees,
Along varicose paths of twisted roots,
Over rugged jags of flint jutting from the rocky ground.
This was Beacon Hill
In evenings of mellow Autumn skies.
To touch and hold each other,
To at least make this place known to us before parting.

c Christopher English<br><img src='http://www.artq.net/artImages/9/LEYK541089648523439.jpg'><br>]]></description></item><item><title><![CDATA[Pots and brushes]]></title><link>http://www.artq.net/ArtView.asp?artwork_id=QPCY541089649021041</link><description><![CDATA[Still life
Oil colour on canvas<br><img src='http://www.artq.net/artImages/1/PNNV541089649021041.jpg'><br>]]></description></item><item><title><![CDATA["Through a Glass Eye"]]></title><link>http://www.artq.net/ArtView.asp?artwork_id=RSCQ541089648024625</link><description><![CDATA[THROUGH A GLASS EYE


Shattering the perfect illusion
of opaque glass
With one live eye,
Mellowed by fires of the past
The one eyed tramp
Wanders about the derelict mansions
Of a clown,
Not able to walk on stilts
To reach through the mask of a clown
that he was.

As he tumbles
The dice of many faces turn
Seeing sides of a clown
That he would not have seen
Within his castle walls.

In a mirror - behind a clock -
on a mantlepiece
Are images of a clown
In a reflection of memories.
Through the eye of the clock
That tells the colour of his time
He sees that if he lost sight
Of his perception
He would soon lose himself
To illusion.

c Christopher English<br><img src='http://www.artq.net/artImages/5/QRMP541089648024625.jpg'><br>]]></description></item><item><title><![CDATA[Colour Life Drawing]]></title><link>http://www.artq.net/ArtView.asp?artwork_id=SLKH54108964951628</link><description><![CDATA[Colour Life Drawing on paper
created using black ink, chalks and pastel<br><img src='http://www.artq.net/artImages/8/PTDX54108964951628.jpg'><br>]]></description></item><item><title><![CDATA[The Snail, the Fly and the Blackbird.]]></title><link>http://www.artq.net/ArtView.asp?artwork_id=TNLP54108964857248</link><description><![CDATA[The Snail, the Fly and the Blackbird.
Treasure Island, the Sky and the Sea.

The hermit comes
Out from his shell
Alone along the silver
path of Snails.

A bluebottle Fly flew by
And saw with her big wide eye
An island of coloured shells.
She stared and stared,
Watching the Snail
Glistening in gold.

From the Sea came a Blackbird,
Swooping down in a rage of ragged wings.
"Quick! Hide." said the Fly to the Snail,
"Here comes a witch, a raven hag,
To ravish at your flesh."

The Snail said to the Bird
"I have come from a mountain
Of many jewels.
I have found an opening
to my cave
Where light filters through
The depth of my coming."

The Fly, with wings that filled the Sky with colour
Came down to the cave and said to the Snail,
"Treasure is rarely found and kept
Within the ground of an Island,
Beware of the Sea."

The Snail said the Fly,
"I heard your warning
But I could not have known,
I was just too naive.
The heart appeared hollow
To the crow
That cast its own shadow.
I came from a globe of colour
Within the shell of the Sea,
Of the same Earth,
From a depth within its World."

Upon the shore of an Island
Comes a wave, the Blackbird,
Diluting the sands as it soaks the beaches.
As the Bird plunders its prey
In its coming and going
A piece of an Island
Slips away.

 The Snail, the Fly and the Blackbird.
Treasure Island, the Sky and the Sea. 

Oil colour on canvas
48 inches by 42 inches 

Artspace 'BIG' exhibition 
June 2001 

Painting shown at the
The Generator Gallery
Loughborough. UK 

E-mail the artist: 
Christopher English 

Return
to Christopher English's page 

 

c Christopher English</item><item><title><![CDATA[MUSICIANS PLAY NOT SEEING]]></title><link>http://www.artq.net/ArtView.asp?artwork_id=UKSY541089648510820</link><description><![CDATA[MUSICIANS PLAY NOT SEEING EACH OTHER IN ORCHESTRA


Inside the cloak of an amused Musician
Is a laugh at such a disguise,
Strung in a web of evolutionary chime,
Inevitably unable to unravel the woven puzzle
In terms of scale.
Seeing himself as a mote of dust in sunlight
Putting on the show.
Meshed in environmental scenario,
Cast to read the symphony of subtleties
He is strung into;
Sometimes not seeing through the wings of the stage.
Fed to feel out conditions
Like a goldfish that breathes in and out
A globe of the same water.
Exposed into life the musician hides
In all the paraphernalia of living,
All so lucid.
Having come through doors between legs
To play dice in the arena.
The midwives exchange the cords hanging babies out to try
In this theatre of company.
Musicians play, not seeing themselves in orchestra
As pictures of our talent hang on the walls
Of stage scenery
That are the windows to view beyond.

c C. English
<br><img src='http://www.artq.net/artImages/0/DCGJ541089648510820.jpg'><br>]]></description></item><item><title><![CDATA[A Rocking Horse at boarding school]]></title><link>http://www.artq.net/ArtView.asp?artwork_id=KOLZ5410896485048</link><description><![CDATA[Oil colour on canvas.
Memories of my childhood at boarding school<br><img src='http://www.artq.net/artImages/8/XDAE5410896485048.jpg'><br>]]></description></item><item><title><![CDATA[Black and White]]></title><link>http://www.artq.net/ArtView.asp?artwork_id=VCEV54108964951925</link><description><![CDATA[Life Drawing
created using willow charcoal
<br><img src='http://www.artq.net/artImages/5/FPOV54108964951925.jpg'><br>]]></description></item><item><title><![CDATA[Cereal packets in mirrors]]></title><link>http://www.artq.net/ArtView.asp?artwork_id=WVXE54108964901446</link><description><![CDATA[Oil colour on canvas<br><img src='http://www.artq.net/artImages/6/OIDT54108964901446.jpg'><br>]]></description></item><item><title><![CDATA[Jumble of tins and jars]]></title><link>http://www.artq.net/ArtView.asp?artwork_id=YPEG541089648513836</link><description><![CDATA[Oil colour on canvas.
Still life painting<br><img src='http://www.artq.net/artImages/6/UGHK541089648513836.jpg'><br>]]></description></item><item><title><![CDATA['Two dead leaves']]></title><link>http://www.artq.net/ArtView.asp?artwork_id=ZUZX541089649012039</link><description><![CDATA[Oil colour on canvas<br><img src='http://www.artq.net/artImages/9/KXAE541089649012039.jpg'><br>]]></description></item><item><title><![CDATA[A Game of Cards in a Ploughed Field]]></title><link>http://www.artq.net/ArtView.asp?artwork_id=UYPQ541089647531853</link><description><![CDATA[A Game of Cards in a Ploughed Field

In one direction the card player ploughs
In a pattern of puzzles and riddles.
He plays to win
Behind guards of his own hand.
Safe in concealed reasons
He moves
For the sake of his own cards,
Unable to help those behind
Their own facades
Playing to their own ends.

c C. English<br><img src='http://www.artq.net/artImages/3/GXNM541089647531853.jpg'><br>]]></description></item><item><title><![CDATA["Hands Holding]]></title><link>http://www.artq.net/ArtView.asp?artwork_id=YVZP541089647534820</link><description><![CDATA[Hands Holding a See-Saw Door

Hungry predators knock at the stable door
And voices within say
Do not intrude upon our lock,
We are Secure and Stable.
Knowing full well the outside
the fear to open holds.

Knowing that Stability and Security
Have to go together,
And understanding the knocking
In a land of shelters
The door is not wanted.
As guilty as the predator
I stay within.

c C. English<br><img src='http://www.artq.net/artImages/0/FZJL541089647534820.jpg'><br>]]></description></item><item><title><![CDATA["The Fisherman, the Judge]]></title><link>http://www.artq.net/ArtView.asp?artwork_id=OLXL5410896480648</link><description><![CDATA[The Fisherman, the Judge and the Dragon

So naive in the range of the dragon's claws
That the innocent was scarred
In the twists and turns of time.
What was thought to be clear in innocence
Became a confusion in the waves of illusion.
So taken in by appearance
That it became the Judge
And entangled in the net of the shallow Fisherman.
The boat searched for answers
Moved by the tide.

c C. English</item><item><title><![CDATA["Would Fire have listened]]></title><link>http://www.artq.net/ArtView.asp?artwork_id=HZWP54108964802451</link><description><![CDATA[Would Fire have listened to reason

From the dark mouth of the dragon
Carved on the wall of a bridge
Came a train,
Through a roaring darkness,
The sun's shafts of light
Flaring through its windows.

From the beautiful face of a girl
Within a blaze of golden hair
Came a breath of smoke.
As the dragon's heart roars out
The sun's warmth on her clothes and brow
Does not penetrate through to the dungeons
Of herself.
Quiet, still and alone she sat
Like a statue of loneliness
Bursting into flame;
Would fire have listened to reason ? 

c C. English 
</item><item><title><![CDATA["Swan in a flame"]]></title><link>http://www.artq.net/ArtView.asp?artwork_id=KUDY54108964806037</link><description><![CDATA[Dreams and memories of some one<br><img src='http://www.artq.net/artImages/6/AQZY54108964806036.jpg'><br>]]></description></item><item><title><![CDATA["A King Rose]]></title><link>http://www.artq.net/ArtView.asp?artwork_id=VPFB54108964809013</link><description><![CDATA[The king rose to build a palace,
his tower guarded by many thorns.
Upon its walls sturdy tendrils of ivy grew
Upon which snakes and lizards crawled, exhibiting tongues of poison,
Their heads with many horns.

The creatures grew bigger
around the kingdom,
They became stronger, tightening their grip, as snakes do.
Yet still, the king was king inside.
Suddenly, the walls of his palace crumbled.
Knowing nothing but wisdom,
Useless in words
Once inflamed with the daggers of snares,
The king fell.
Upon the last and first step
of his ruined tower
He looked up upon its hollowness
And with insight of the animals
That laughed at the pompous king
He again began to climb.

c C. English 
<br><img src='http://www.artq.net/artImages/3/DQDZ54108964809013.jpg'><br>]]></description></item><item><title><![CDATA[Flowers growing through chains]]></title><link>http://www.artq.net/ArtView.asp?artwork_id=IJAK541089648013242</link><description><![CDATA[I want to show the idea of change, where we see through, and grow through the changes of life. Yet at the same time we are shackled and anchored in chains were nothing much changes ( i.e.-we live in a physical three dimensional space, existing on a planet). Flowers represent our inner self, with changes of spiritual development. Where as in the exterior life we only have the one body, with the various changes of age and physical limitations. 
<br><img src='http://www.artq.net/artImages/2/TUUU541089648013242.jpg'><br>]]></description></item><item><title><![CDATA[The Day Covers]]></title><link>http://www.artq.net/ArtView.asp?artwork_id=OCPF54108964906615</link><description><![CDATA[THE DAY COVERS

Not wanting to leave a warm bed
The heart must go into its shallow day.
Awakening from dreams of people that are moulded
Into a symbol of a flame.
It is an illuminated guise of the past and present;
Only one person stands for all of them.

In dreams a force is felt
And I am compelled to ask pestering questions,
Eagerly hoping answers that would tell me
Of those I've known which one she was.

The dreams that open up like torchlight
To scan my spirit fade.
Only sparks of memory filter through
To poems
As the day covers such things.

c Christopher English</item><item><title><![CDATA[Hospital Ward]]></title><link>http://www.artq.net/ArtView.asp?artwork_id=BGFF54108964909052</link><description><![CDATA[Hospital Ward


Lying flat, tilted back, watching the sun flowering
The window of the ward,
Birds soar in a horizonless sky,
The orthopaedic ward has become a world
Through the months,
Walls of houses have been torn down
To reveal humanity in the street.
A spectacle of people in a theatre of reality.
Racked limbs strung up in webs of strings and pulleys
For the man who's wife {?}
In her graceful animal furs
Complained of having no holiday, and the mother-in-law.
No doors are closed to hidden stresses,
Pain tells who you are.
The Airforce pilot flung out of a car,
Landing on his back, prospects of a crippled future.
The hallucinating patient who saw spirits.
The Greek cultured family around their injured son
While their mother breast-feeds the youngest.
The gypsies.....
Religion, pornography, daily papers.
Lonely men, anxious and afraid.
Families gathering around their General Joe.
The breaking and pulling back together again
Bones, emotions, relationships.
People mellowed into coping,
For some,
Having been through it all before.
Resilient, astonishing attitudes
That had pulled through,
To have lived through,
To have seen through
A shattered importance.

c C. English</item><item><title><![CDATA[Jugs and bottles]]></title><link>http://www.artq.net/ArtView.asp?artwork_id=WLZV541089649019211</link><description><![CDATA[Still life
Oil colour on canvas.<br><img src='http://www.artq.net/artImages/1/JFSI541089649019211.jpg'><br>]]></description></item><item><title><![CDATA[Sue reading a book]]></title><link>http://www.artq.net/ArtView.asp?artwork_id=IIGG54108964902946</link><description><![CDATA[Portrait paint
Oil colour on canvas<br><img src='http://www.artq.net/artImages/6/IHQD54108964902946.jpg'><br>]]></description></item><item><title><![CDATA[Alf reading the paper]]></title><link>http://www.artq.net/ArtView.asp?artwork_id=HJPB54108964903184</link><description><![CDATA[Portrait painting
Oil colour on canvas<br><img src='http://www.artq.net/artImages/4/CKYE54108964903184.jpg'><br>]]></description></item><item><title><![CDATA[Funeral flowers]]></title><link>http://www.artq.net/ArtView.asp?artwork_id=RBCU54108964902406</link><description><![CDATA[Still life
Oil colour on canvas<br><img src='http://www.artq.net/artImages/6/QZMR54108964902406.jpg'><br>]]></description></item><item><title><![CDATA[Boxes in tin foil reflections]]></title><link>http://www.artq.net/ArtView.asp?artwork_id=IOEX541089649016217</link><description><![CDATA[Oil colour on canvas<br><img src='http://www.artq.net/artImages/7/GWWN541089649016217.jpg'><br>]]></description></item><item><title><![CDATA[Curtains and a Union Jack]]></title><link>http://www.artq.net/ArtView.asp?artwork_id=GWBV5410896495610</link><description><![CDATA[Still life
Oil colour on canvas<br><img src='http://www.artq.net/artImages/9/GLAH541089649569.jpg'><br>]]></description></item><item><title><![CDATA[A woman in a blue jacket]]></title><link>http://www.artq.net/ArtView.asp?artwork_id=XDKE54108964901857</link><description><![CDATA[Portrait painting.
Oil colour on board<br><img src='http://www.artq.net/artImages/7/LSZJ54108964901857.jpg'><br>]]></description></item><item><title><![CDATA[Colour Life Drawing]]></title><link>http://www.artq.net/ArtView.asp?artwork_id=XDLY54108964954843</link><description><![CDATA[Colour Life Drawing
created using chalks and pastel<br><img src='http://www.artq.net/artImages/2/BUQM54108964954842.jpg'><br>]]></description></item><item><title><![CDATA[Self portrait]]></title><link>http://www.artq.net/ArtView.asp?artwork_id=KYDP541089649526429</link><description><![CDATA[Self portrait
created using willow charcoal
<br><img src='http://www.artq.net/artImages/9/OTPG541089649526429.jpg'><br>]]></description></item><item><title><![CDATA[Colour Life Drawing]]></title><link>http://www.artq.net/ArtView.asp?artwork_id=RJZQ54108964957833</link><description><![CDATA[Colour Life Drawing
created using chalks and pastel<br><img src='http://www.artq.net/artImages/3/GTKK54108964957833.jpg'><br>]]></description></item></channel></rss>