About the artist - Greg Buxton

Greg, my Father, was a painter and decorator in Sheffield. He didn’t really like it.

He always had a fascination with Erotic art, a keen eye and skill with a pencil, yet it wasn’t until he braved the opinion of friends and family in November 2002 that he made steps to show his work to the public.

'Bloody typical!'

Greg’s opinion on pretty much anything.

He passed away the following March, just after his 57th Birthday.

Which was a shame, as I’d borrowed money to set the bloody thing up and the selfish bastard went and died on me!

Nothing was done for years.

Then, in 2004 while visiting family, I stumbled upon the rest of his artwork.
These weren’t the drawings he’d shown before, but fully realised
Erotica covering a number of subjects.

Refusing to give up.

After discussing with others the sheer amount of work Greg had created, I decided to approach a Gallery to see what they thought.

A.G.P WORKS in Sheffield (Archipelago at the time) was brought up via a friend and we spoke. I suddenly realised that not only were these images different in some way, they were technically ‘jolly good’. Nice one Dad!

Around a hundred people visited the Exhibition, most wanting to peek at something cheeky or naughty. I don’t think most were prepared for this very personal collection.

Here were a man’s erotic thoughts on paper.

Not to sell, nor for admiration, but because it was deemed indecorous for him to seek such erotica and feel this way about it (It didn’t help that most of it was banned or extremely underground in the UK at the time).

Not to sell, nor for admiration, but because it was deemed indecorous for him to seek such erotica and feel this way about it (It didn’t help that most of it was banned or extremely underground in the UK at the time).

Some left huffing, others stayed longer than they should have. Most had a drink and some swapped numbers. Greg would have loved it.

What was he really like?

There are many stories about Greg, but I feel his Eulogy covers the lot.

Greg was always thinking of others.
He saved frogs and worms from certain doom, detested harm to animals and often left tidbits for them on the armchair for the dogs to snaffle.

Although not too keen on certain plants, he loved cacti.

Also not one for being tidy, he used every available chair as a portable wardrobe.

His dry humour, caring and thoughtful nature is known to everyone who ever met him.

He had great patience for children, teaching them all to draw and paint, and never grumbled
when early in the morning – say 9 or 10 o’clock, we launched ourselves onto his bed to wake him.

His artistic talent was well known.

From painting a Mural on Bowlhill school while in attendance (With permission I might add), to the drawings and paintings, cards and sketches we’re all aware of he was truly blessed with a gift.
One live model at Stannington Art Class even asked to buy the perfect sketches of her.
He gave them to her with a smile, and asked for nothing.

Even the decorating work he did from the age of 16 as an apprentice, to the guttering that is still grey, he would do anything for anybody…eventually.

For every new generation of Grandchildren, nieces or nephews he was plagued for more and more attention.
Numerous wage packets were spent in Redgates, Beaties and other shops as most of you recall, holding his hand while whining and cajoling him into buying the latest toys.

And as always he was protective. I’m sure he taught most of us how to cross the road.

To everybody else who knew him he was their best friend.

He often acted as mediator during feuds between family or friends, always wanting to calm the situation.

He would listen to everyone’s’ point of view, and never took sides but welcomed all. Greg was a true peacekeeper.

He seemed to have an unlimited amount of jokes and interesting stories and the gang at the Deerstalker is going to miss his general knowledge skills I’m sure.

Rivelin valley, Hillsborough, Crookes and Walkley were Greg’s stomping grounds.

Others will remember these places as stumbling grounds as he often went swimming in Rivelin Valley. Ahem.


His close friends will remember his school years, camping at Haychatters summer after summer and the long nights at the Palm.
Oh, and his love of Bingo – Flat Cap and pen at the ready!

Always the life and soul of the party, people would often find him still awake when they rose for breakfast. Unfortunately, they would also find their entire Christmas stock of alcohol severely depleted and footprints on the ceiling.

From an early age he was interested in so many things; From the Roman vase that he brought home that was actually a chamber pot, to the hundreds of books and documents, Airfix Models and shell fragments from WWI and II.
He absorbed information with a passion, which led to him confirming facts and figures for some articles and books documenting the War Years. He was quite proud of those.

Greg was loyal, affectionate, compassionate and always fun.
He was a Son, Brother, Nephew, Cousin, Father, Granddad, Uncle and Friend to be proud of.

I know we all have different memories of Greg, but it’s easy to stand here today because I know
we all have fantastic, unique and happy memories of him. Who could wish for more?

Finally, my Father had a last request.

He said that he wanted to be embalmed, and stuck in a wheelchair under the stairs so that we could say to his Grandkids,

“Oh go and get your Granddad out to play…….”

And thats our Greg.

And here we are Captain. Online at last.

I’m certain Greg would have been surprised at the reaction had he shown his art to a broader spectrum of people earlier.
Maybe if he’d reached out to one of the Erotica publications he subscribed to?

Most of the thoughts that he struggled with were so Victorian, even then in 2003, that I was dumbfounded when faced with the artwork at his absolute lack of confidence, and it was a long struggle to get him to accept that a comic book, an exhibition or a website was a great idea.

Throughout his life Greg was a free thinker, but for him, this part of him had to stay on paper, hidden away.

To have been accepted by others or, more importantly, the strength not to care, would certainly have freed a unique part of him I think.

So thanks for reading about Greg.

He was a great bloke and a good Dad. Some say I shouldn’t be so personal, but I want you to understand that I loved Greg deeply, and hope that this site in some way helps others out there with a part of themselves they dare not share, accept the fact that in this day and age, nobody cares.

The battle is within you. Take it easy, Leigh.

If you have any questions…

…if you knew him, or found a dwarf near your fireplace when stripping the wall paper in Ecclesall, get in touch.
Site updating daily. Thnaks for your patience.