Before venturing into the world of the finite arts, Elmer Presslee had made a sizeable fortune through a series of equestrian blooper tapes.
After the betamax craze of the early 80â€™s, he spent a considerable amount of time in various rebel factions fighting for the superiority of Zydeco over Calypso music. However, unable to resolve his personal feelings as to which should rule the airwaves, and following a most horrific stint as a captive in a brutal dreamtime intern camp, he got a few Little Marcy albums and washed his hands of the thing.
With left-over nuggets of nightmares and daydreams, he next renewed his studies in the discipline of the biomechanics of entities of the ethereal plane. Becoming severely disfigured / reconfigured by a microwave bowl mishap, he swore to regain control of his universe by reshaping the very substance that had shaped him.
Certain discredited physicians have said his artistic technique comes from high levels of potassium in his veins (from an 95% banana-based diet). They've stated: xxxxxxx xxxxx xxxxx xxx. Skateretd xxxxxx xxxxx xxxxx the xxxxx xxxxxx unresolved xxxxx xxxxx xx childish and uncertain xxxxx xx meets xxxx xxxxxxx. His work is inspired by a mix of painful memories of fictional childhoods heâ€™s remembered from years of watching late night low-budget movie broadcasts. Elmerâ€™s state, federal and personal medical files are sealed due to several court orders. They will not be repeated here.
Presslee lives alone in various backyards and open fields. He winters in whisky. Elmer believes his hair is more often implicated by its actions, drives, and desires rather than experienced as a distinct and separate entity.