{"id":973,"date":"2012-03-25T22:49:01","date_gmt":"2012-03-25T22:49:01","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/secretacres.com\/newsite\/?page_id=973"},"modified":"2023-02-23T16:41:25","modified_gmt":"2023-02-23T16:41:25","slug":"theo-ellsworth","status":"publish","type":"page","link":"http:\/\/secretacres.com\/?page_id=973","title":{"rendered":"Theo Ellsworth"},"content":{"rendered":"<div style=\"width: 760px; padding-left: 100px; padding-right: 100px;\"><a href=\"#Bio\"><img loading=\"lazy\" width=\"38\" height=\"105\" class=\"alignnone size-full wp-image-1179\" title=\"Bio\" alt=\"\" src=\"http:\/\/secretacres.com\/newsite\/wp-content\/uploads\/2012\/03\/TEBio.gif\"><\/a><a href=\"#Reviews\"><img loading=\"lazy\" width=\"83\" height=\"105\" class=\"alignnone size-full wp-image-1180\" title=\"Reviews\" alt=\"\" src=\"http:\/\/secretacres.com\/newsite\/wp-content\/uploads\/2012\/03\/TEReviews.gif\"><\/a><a href=\"https:\/\/indiepubs.com\/collections\/vendors?q=Theo%20Ellsworth&amp;contributorID=20966\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\"><img loading=\"lazy\" width=\"71\" height=\"105\" class=\"alignnone size-full wp-image-1182\" style=\"border-style: initial; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-width: 0px;\" title=\"Store\" alt=\"\" src=\"http:\/\/secretacres.com\/newsite\/wp-content\/uploads\/2012\/03\/TEStore.gif\"><\/a><a href=\"mailto:theoellsworth@hotmail.com\"><img class=\"alignnone size-full wp-image-1181\" title=\"Email\" alt=\"\" src=\"http:\/\/secretacres.com\/newsite\/wp-content\/uploads\/2012\/03\/TEContact.gif\"><\/a><br \/>\n<a name=\"Bio\"><\/a><img loading=\"lazy\" class=\"alignleft size-full wp-image-1177\" title=\"JB\" alt=\"\" src=\"http:\/\/secretacres.com\/newsite\/wp-content\/uploads\/2012\/03\/Theo.jpg\" width=\"175\" height=\"175\"><br \/>\n<span class=\"txtHeading\">BIO<\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n<div style=\"width: 760px; padding-left: 100px; padding-right: 100px;\"><\/div>\n<div style=\"width: 760px; padding-left: 100px; padding-right: 100px;\">\n<span class=\"txtParhead\">Theo Ellsworth<\/span> is a self-taught artist and storyteller living in the mountains of Montana with a witch doctor, their son and a slightly evil cat. He developed his art while wandering the United States in a motor powered vehicle. He is uncommonly fond of clouds, monsters, trees, and impossible objects. He is prone to fits of whimsy, and his mind is filled with preposterous notions, yet he still manages to come across as semi-normal. He spends as much time as possible making comics, art zines, and imaginary phenomenon.<\/p>\n<p><a name=\"Reviews\"><\/a><br \/>\n<span class=\"txtHeading\">IN PRAISE OF THEO ELLSWORTH<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span class=\"txtParhead\">A combination<\/span> of <em>Where the Wild Things Are<\/em>, a fever dream, a pagan woodland ceremony, and a notebook doodle.<\/p>\n<p><span class=\"txtReview\">&#8211; Pitchfork<\/span><\/p>\n<p>There\u2019s also some kind of unusual thought process driving Theo Ellsworth\u2019s <em>THE UNDERSTANDING MONSTER: Book One<\/em> (Secret Acres, $21.95) \u2014 not a disorder, exactly, but imagination turned up to fire hose intensity. Ellsworth fills every bit of every page with grotesque patterns and textures and doodles, and his writing is similarly wild-eyed. Nominally an adventure story involving a mouse, \u201cphantom skeletons\u201d and \u201ctoy growth formations,\u201d the book is mostly an urgent (and often very funny) attempt to explain a coocoo-rococo cosmology made up of garbled fragments of role-\u00adplaying games, \u201cTransformers\u201d episodes, relaxation exercises and horror movies. In one sequence, a character wakes up and exclaims that he dreamed he was a house. \u201cThat wasn\u2019t a dream, Izadore,\u201d a voice tells him. \u201cYou really are a house. You\u2019re in a room inside yourself.\u201d<\/p>\n<p><span class=\"txtReview\">&#8211; Douglas Wolk, The New York Times<\/span><\/p>\n<p>If you missed Book One, it might not be a problem, because despite the artist\u2019s excessively explanatory dialogue, I\u2019m baffled by the narrative and subtext of this eerie fairy tale (mostly taking place in the mind of an immobilized mummy and involving ghosts, a laughing demon and a three-eyed house gnome). But despite my confusion, I unequivocally enjoyed the bewildering experience of navigating this visual feast, due out in early November. It brought to mind another comparable cartoonist, Chicagoan Edie Fake. I could never follow his <em>Gaylord Phoenix<\/em> but I still consider it one of the greatest pieces of contemporary cartooning. Ellsworth, likewise, has cohesively combined the confounding and convincing.<\/p>\n<p><span class=\"txtReview\">&#8211; The Chicago Tribune<\/span><\/p>\n<p>Ellsworth&#8217;s weird little tales sometimes read like acid trips of the future, complete with lonely robots and unknown creatures. But there&#8217;s also a nice personal story threading through this. I have no idea why this guy isn&#8217;t considered a comics God yet. Maybe someday he rightfully will be.<\/p>\n<p><span class=\"txtReview\">&#8211; The Huffington Post<\/span><\/p>\n<p>In <em>Understanding Monster<\/em> Ellsworth delves into the minutia of the minutia of his brain\u2019s inner realms, worlds that often function in opposition: colliding, refracting, and splintering. The story depicts the struggle to link these prismatic worlds, to get them working in harmony. He casts the classic quest to Find Oneself in a mythic, phantasmagorical light.<\/p>\n<p>Oh, there is a plot here: right at the outset our protagonist, Izadore, finds his spirit trapped inside a mouse\u2019s body, while his \u201cPhantom skeleton\u201d calamitously roams free. He needs to escape from \u201cnegative time\u201d and find his way back to his corporeal form to reintegrate his mind\/body\/spirit with the help of a fly, itself inhabited by another spirit, a spaceman called This Way That Way. In his quest, he\u2019s aided by a host of benevolent creatures including one Inspector Gimble, who is his major guide and protector, a group of sentient toys and a green girl named Gill. Standing in his way, however, is a rogue\u2019s gallery of antagonists ranging from the Devil to a pharaoh\u2019s mummy to a group of terrible entities called the Mean Kids in the Walls.<\/p>\n<p>The perilous quest Izadore undertakes in <em>Understanding Monster<\/em> continues <em>Capacity\u2019s<\/em> exploration and deconstruction of the creative process: finding your true voice, fighting through the negative feedback loop, locating the core of the self, and manifesting it on the page or canvas as honestly as possible. All the characters guiding or opposing Izadore appear to be elements of his personality, with each faction fighting for dominance&#8230;<\/p>\n<p>&#8230;Ellsworth conjures up a dizzying array of beautiful, intricately patterned, labyrinthine drawings, perfectly capturing the spiraling sprawl of the narrative within a narrative within a narrative. What keeps this souffl\u00e9 from collapsing is this: no matter how bizarre the proceedings, Izadore\u2019s odyssey always maintains its internal (il)logic. Somehow, Ellsworth manages to make a perfect sort of sense, and we root for Izadore to escape the forces aligned against him and complete his quest. Ellsworth\u2019s deep imagination, as well as his idiosyncratic charm, humor, and sincerity are evident in every passage rendered, no matter how far out into the ether it may be. His trippy psychedelic home movies are projected directly from his head without ever forgetting the heart.<\/p>\n<p><span class=\"txtReview\">&#8211; Robert Kirby, The Comics Journal<\/span><\/p>\n<p><a style=\"display:none;\" class=\"collapse-text\" id=\"te1953374478\" href=\"javascript:expand('#te1953374478')\"><span class=\"txtHeading\">MORE PRAISE FOR THEO ELLSWORTH<\/span><\/a>\n<div class=\"te_div\" id=\"te1953374478\"><script language=\"JavaScript\" type=\"text\/javascript\">expander_hide('#te1953374478');<\/script>\nIn Ellsworth\u2019s intricately crafted trilogy, a group of toys in a shapeshifting house save and revive Izadore, a being destined to transcend \u201cToy Mountain\u201d and regain his corporeality. Along the way, a bevy of bizarre incidents and obstacles attempt to block Izadore. The story reflects Ellsworth\u2019s own mentality and ideas on creativity and personality.<\/p>\n<p><span class=\"txtReview\">&#8211; Publishers Weekly<\/span><\/p>\n<p>While the bizarre plot can be impenetrably dense, most readers likely won\u2019t care as they navigate through Ellsworth\u2019s gorgeous hand-painted visuals. Virtually every page is overloaded with over-the-top illustrations that the average Joe would seemingly need to spend a year creating. Even though <em>The Understanding Monster Book Two<\/em> lasts just 72 pages, I couldn\u2019t help but spend extra minutes gazing at all the lush details found in every page. So despite the plot regularly amping up the weirdness, I never found myself bored or demanding an explanation. I just sat back and enjoyed the utterly strange yet captivating ride.<\/p>\n<p><span class=\"txtReview\">&#8211; RE:Views Media<\/span><\/p>\n<p>Ellsworth\u2019s work reaches out and touches people of all ages through engaging illustrations and surreal storytelling.<\/p>\n<p>The intensity of his illustrations and storytelling is marked by a sensitive layering of color, finished with a graphic line. His approach relates to the language of the comic book. The stories are upbeat and touching, reflecting a tale of ultimate safety in the face of what some might interpret as dangerous situations, as in his <em>The Understanding Monster<\/em>.<\/p>\n<p><span class=\"txtReview\">&#8211; The Missoulian<\/span><\/p>\n<p>You could read <em>The Understanding Monster<\/em> in random order for its art alone. Despite all of its eddies and whorls and tangents, however, it&#8217;s genuinely propulsive right from the &#8220;reverse countdown&#8221; of its opening chapter. It&#8217;s a race against time to put together Izadore&#8217;s spiritual components. The inertia of doubt and fear wants to keep everything standing still, but motion, any motion, is the only way out. &#8220;I know the urge to stop is overwhelming, Izadore,&#8221; says the robot, &#8220;but you&#8217;re not going to stop. Go. Go. Go. Go. Go.&#8221; It&#8217;s vital that you keep your limbs in motion.<\/p>\n<p>The last few months killed whatever lingering ideas I had about critical objectivity. I probably experienced some great art that left me stone cold. And maybe this book wouldn&#8217;t have hit me so hard if I didn&#8217;t need to be reminded to keep turning the pages. Ignore the ghosts. Accept outside help. Put yourself together again.<\/p>\n<p>The best part is that there&#8217;s more of <em>The Understanding Monster<\/em> to come. Sometimes the most comforting words are just &#8220;to be continued.&#8221;<\/p>\n<p><span class=\"txtReview\">&#8211; Martyn Pedler, Bookslut<\/span><\/p>\n<p>Theo Ellsworth\u2018s Euro album-format <em>The Understanding Monster Book One<\/em>, a Secret Acres release and unquestionably the most relentlessly psychedelic comic I\u2019ve encountered in 2012, pitched somewhere in between the handmade decoration of Lynda Barry and the textured sci-fi chaos of Brendan McCarthy circa <em>Freakwave<\/em>, with lunges into post-underground Psychedoolia merriment and\u2026 I dunno, Joseph Cornell\u2019s boxes. And <em>Toy Story<\/em>. I\u2019m kind of at a loss for words, or even a plot summary \u2013 please allow the above image to make do while I try to figure something out.<\/p>\n<p><span class=\"txtReview\">&#8211; Joe McCulloch, the Comics Jounral<\/span><\/p>\n<p>Mean kids are hiding inside your walls.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI\u2019m making a TV show about your painful decline. It\u2019s on right now!\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cAll of your friends are actually me in disguise.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>It is a long time since I\u2019ve read a graphic novel so effectively singular \u2013 by which I mean of its own mind, unique. And it\u2019s very much the matters of the mind at stake here: the struggle so many people endure to forge forward when weighed down \u2013 when pulled down \u2013 by self-doubt and crippling terrors: the what-ifs of a fear-ridden future; all the terrible things that might happen or what people might say if you do this, that, or anything at all. It can incapacitate you completely. But if one could just turn the Very Important Corner, if one could just\u2026 take\u2026 the first\u2026 step\u2026<\/p>\n<p>Oh, it\u2019s so clever and so resoundingly lush. There are textures and patterns everywhere: wool, woven linen, ornamental wallpaper, feathered scales and whorled wood. Within the ultra-inventive panel and page configurations the colours are dark and opaque and speak of ancient homes: greens and blues and rich, ruddy-brown wood and fur. Fur? Izadore first manifests itself as a mouse. Very timid and susceptible to distractions.<\/p>\n<p>Anyway.<\/p>\n<p>It all begins when the clock strikes Negative Nine.<\/p>\n<p><span class=\"txtReview\">&#8211; Page 45<\/span><\/p>\n<p>Theo Ellsworth draws obsessively detailed drawings and self-publishes comics, mini comics, and zines about imaginary people and places. The cosmic imagery, subtle geometry, and implied animism in his works recall the epic, heroic, and odd imagery of Jean \u201cMoebius\u201d Girard, Mayan ruins, and the Nazca lines, filtered through the jam-packed and often psychedelic lens of underground comix from the \u201970s. (Ellsworth\u2019s first \u201creal\u201d book, <em>Capacity<\/em>, was weird, wordy, and wonderful, and published by Secret Acres in 2008.) Taking part in art shows affords the Portland, OR-based artist opportunities to experiment with color, explore larger frames, and let his imagination fly\u2013or spelunk or dive, depending on his mood.<\/p>\n<p><span class=\"txtReview\">&#8211; Giant Robot<\/span><\/p>\n<p>There&#8217;s been a recent trend where artwork has become secondary to storytelling in comics; a mere glance at a book&#8217;s hazy imagery is all that is necessary to keep the story moving along. When Bryan Lee O&#8217;Malley&#8217;s critically acclaimed 2004 indie gem <em>Scott Pilgrim<\/em> first appeared, readers overlooked the book&#8217;s crude cartoony look because of the strength of the storytelling and the premise. In contrast to that trend, Ellsworth&#8217;s dense, mesmerizing compositions aren&#8217;t easy to ignore. In The Understanding Monster he weaves a story that can be difficult to wrap your head around\u2014in a good way\u2014but the real challenge is not getting lost in the hyper-detail of every page, each one deserving of being blown up into large college dorm posters.<\/p>\n<p>Ellsworth&#8217;s previous releases through publisher Secret Acres include both an autobiographical odyssey, <em>Capacity<\/em>, and a series of oddball vignettes in his 2009 entry, <em>Sleeper Car<\/em>. Ellsworth turned a few heads in the indie comic realm in 2010, when one of the short stories from Sleeper Car was featured in that year&#8217;s edition of The Best American Comics.<\/p>\n<p>By the time &#8220;Book One&#8221; of <em>The Understanding Monster<\/em> concludes, Izadore finds the nature of his\/her\/its reality completely transformed. But, as the book&#8217;s teaser-filled denouement proclaims, this story is just the beginning.<\/p>\n<p>&#8220;&#8216;Book One&#8217; is the first part of a three part puzzle,&#8221; he says. &#8220;Hopefully it will leave people wondering, and maybe thinking more about their relationship with their own thoughts. &#8216;Book One&#8217; depicted a very specific series of events from one character&#8217;s point of view. &#8216;Book Two&#8217; will pull back from that and show the same events through different characters&#8217; eyes, building a bigger picture of what we&#8217;ve seen&#8230;In &#8216;Book Three&#8217; we&#8217;ll explore the when, which is tricky when there&#8217;s time travel involved.&#8221;<\/p>\n<p>In other words, we can look forward to a story that extends beyond Izadore&#8217;s expanding psyche\u2014and even time itself.<\/p>\n<p><span class=\"txtReview\">&#8211; Mack Perry, Missoula Independent<\/span><\/p>\n<p>Rather than outward experience, Ellsworth\u2019s subject is his innermost imagination. \u201cSince I was very young, I have known that I was meant to tell the stories of the characters that I see inside my head,\u201d he writes. \u201cClimbing back there and visually recording my findings has always been a weirdly natural process.\u201d Indeed the striking accompanying illustration, typical of the book, shows a roller coasterlike road system traversing living forests, creature-rich rivers, wise-eyed mountains and on into space, from which waves a friendly paw. Yet, as Ellsworth describes it, investigating this world is almost impossible without losing a coherent sense of self and story. If waking existence unspools far faster than our ability to gather it, after all, imagine the even-more-difficult task of fully possessing everything we dream. By analogy, <em>Capacity<\/em> offers the tale of a young puppeteer putting on a play for himself. \u201cHe did so simply for the novelty of getting to be both\u2026the actors and the audience simultaneously,\u201d Ellsworth writes: but his puppets built their own puppets, and those puppets, in turn, built their own. And all of the puppets put on their own plays for the puppets that came before them. The plays were filled with strange ideas that the boy had never thought of before. He suddenly realized that he should be writing these ideas down, but his hands were already full. To make matters worse, the theatre was on a wagon that had begun to roll steadily down hill. By the time he had safely stopped the wagon, he couldn\u2019t remember any of the ideas, and the puppets refused to repeat a single word. Such conundrums are as old as literature, present in Don Quixote and Tristram Shandy, the poetry of Coleridge and Keats, and even the movies \u201cThe Terminator\u201d and \u201cThe Matrix.\u201d Like life itself, they have no solution because, save death, they accept no boundaries.<\/p>\n<p><span class=\"txtReview\">&#8211; The Chicago Tribune<\/span><\/p>\n<p>Theo Ellsworth&#8217;s imaginary cities are densely populated with funny monsters, hybrid animals, Mazatec gods, visiting aliens, and other members of his seemingly infinite bestiary. And yet they&#8217;re a little lonely, too, and their creator seems to want company. Perhaps that&#8217;s why, over the course of Capacity&#8211; which sandwiches all seven issues of the Portland, Oregon, artist&#8217;s eponymous self-published comic between a hundred pages of semiautobiographical hide-and-seek&#8211;Ellsworth seeks, again and again, to transform the reader into his silent witness and co-conspirator.<\/p>\n<p>Upon being inserted (gently) into Ellsworth&#8217;s intricately rendered imaginary world, a place in which Maurice Sendak or Dr. Seuss would feel right at home, the reader is gradually initiated into the artist&#8217;s hermetic headspace. We learn about his creative process (long walks spark countless interior &#8220;skits&#8221; he subsequently draws into existence) and about his personal life (living in his car and house sitting gradually gave way to his current domestic tranquility). After initially fearing that his demons would catch him, Ellsworth now relies on his own, self-created monsters to catch him when he falls.<\/p>\n<p>Ellsworth matures impressively as an artist over the course of Capacity&#8217;s seven issues. The withdrawn cartoonist in issue one assumes an almost shamanic identity by the end of its run. The narrative, such as it is, remains secondary to the many elaborate full-page illustrations that pepper the book. Entire worlds condense into symbolic headgear in some of drawings; bodies, cities, and amusement parks metastasize into something considerably trippier than the sum of their parts in others.<\/p>\n<p>After assisting him in his quest for &#8220;full access to my subconscious, without going insane!&#8221; the reader is gently sent away and the artist returns to his studio and shuts the door. Having become acquainted with the multitude of gods and monsters inhabiting Ellsworth&#8217;s head, you may be tempted to ask, &#8220;Who&#8217;s the lonely one now?&#8221;<\/p>\n<p><span class=\"txtReview\">&#8211; The Village Voice<\/span><\/p>\n<p>Theo Ellsworth\u2019s <em>Capacity<\/em> is an idiosyncratic masterpiece. Beneath its surface level of animistic surrealism it is essentially a creative coming-of-age story which narrates the story of its own creation along with its creator\u2019s struggles to learn how to channel his unusually direct connection to his dreamworld and fantasy life onto the page. It\u2019s constantly surprising and full of charm. It\u2019s not an easy or straightforward read, so be prepared to spend some time with this one, it\u2019s worth your time.<\/p>\n<p>Remember, too, that Theo\u2019s hilarious, absurdist short story, \u201cNorman Eight\u2019s Left Arm,\u201d appears in the current <em>Best American Comics<\/em> volume.<\/p>\n<p><span class=\"txtReview\">&#8211; Matt Madden, Drawing Words &amp; Writing Pictures<\/span><\/p>\n<p>Theo&#8217;s greatest strengths lays in his cartooning, and when the guy starts drawing these gigantic fantasy structures, these gargantuan Aztec-looking statues covered in slides and highways, it makes for a brilliant experience. It helps that Theo embraces one solid fact throughout, a simple one that would benefit anyone who tries to spend their time creating fantasy architecture: make sure that the fantastic has logic. No matter how easy it would be for Ellsworth to just draw his intricate structures with no rhyme or reason, he takes the time to construct some kind of convoluted\u2014yet wholly accurate\u2014Rube Goldberg structure, often by way of the smooth plastic of the old Mousetrap board game. Sure, these mazes, these slides and pennywhistle compounds that end up looking like some kind of alien oil rig on Jack Kirby&#8217;s Apokolips&#8211;they couldn&#8217;t ever be &#8220;real.&#8221; But they&#8217;ve got weight to them, and the path the little substitute character takes is one that makes sense. You can trace it with your finger&#8211;and if the odd little pieces of text are to be believed, Ellsworth would probably like it much better if you did.<\/p>\n<p><span class=\"txtReview\">&#8211; The Factual Opinion<\/span><\/p>\n<p>By the end of the book, I was so engrossed by the uniqueness of Ellsworth&#8217;s project and the skill of its execution that I never even really thought about how potentially disjointed such a book could seem in less assured hands. But not only does it all flow rather seamlessly, there&#8217;s a final-pages reveal\/twist that cleverly and delightfully links together long-abandoned story strands to uncover a throughline that was there all along. It&#8217;s a wildly successful little story-as-puzzle moment, like a great Grant Morrison comic or David Lynch film. It makes you want to go back and re-read the whole thing, not &#8220;to see what you missed&#8221; or anything but just because it would be fun and rewarding to do so. I have a feeling this will be a book I&#8217;m diving into every now and then for a long time to come.<\/p>\n<p><span class=\"txtReview\">&#8211; Sean T. Collins<\/span><\/p>\n<p>Just when I&#8217;ve cynically decided that the whole &#8220;graphic novels&#8221; bit has been hopelessly overrun by huge publishers looking to cash in on the next hip thing with the umpteen-millionth graphic novel memoir about disease\/identity politics, etc., I find something like Theo Ellsworth&#8217;s <em>Capacity<\/em> to renew my faith in the art form. The book&#8211;a collection of Ellsworth&#8217;s mini-comics of the same name, with a ton of material added in, mostly as a framing story throughout&#8211;is part memoir, part dream journal, part exploration of the creative process. It&#8217;s beautifully drawn in a hyper-detailed, almost etching-like style that&#8217;s a bit reminiscent of Thai art in places. The author&#8217;s writing about his own creative pursuits is insightful and analytical without being stuffy or self-important; in fact, it&#8217;s often quite funny. While I suspect that the similarly-themed <em>What It Is<\/em> by Lynda Barry will garnish more of the limelight than <em>Capacity<\/em> will, this book seems somehow more intimate.<\/p>\n<p><span class=\"txtReview\">&#8211; Ben Towle<\/span><\/p>\n<p>Theo Ellsworth&#8217;s book <em>Capacity<\/em> defies easy description. I admire Secret Acres&#8217; publishers, Leon Avelino and Barry Matthews, for taking on yet another highly unusual project of an artist whose work up to that point had only been in mini-comics form. Like with Sam Gaskin&#8217;s <em>Fatal Faux-Pas<\/em> and Eamon Espey&#8217;s <em>Wormdye<\/em>, <em>Capacity<\/em> isn&#8217;t simply a collection of minicomics, but a fully cohesive work with all sorts of unusual thematic connections. It&#8217;s part autobiography, part transcription of a series of waking dreams, part epic and part art exercise. It is, in a sense, a senior thesis for Ellsworth&#8217;s own personal art school. It&#8217;s filled with false starts, left turns, haunting images, abandoned ideas and a conclusion that stitches them all together. It is the artist&#8217;s way of tricking himself into getting at other stories. It is a form of ritual and sacrifice that is only concluded upon having been read. It is a nesting series of eggs that give birth to each other.<\/p>\n<p><span class=\"txtReview\">&#8211; Rob Clough<\/span><\/p>\n<p>If you were wondering if art could be made that is both self-aware and sincere, experimental but not at the cost of being humanistic, here is your answer. This ability to make a self-reflexive piece of art that is neither ironic nor over-stylized is what is truly exciting and innovative about Theo Ellsworth\u2019s first full-length graphic novel. <em>Capacity<\/em> does not just show you magic, but embodies magic itself. In a year where self-reflexivity seemed either overshadowed by the drum machine or hampered by the wry, snarky smile of the silver screen, <em>Capacity<\/em> manages to avoid being gimmicky in its look inward and instead enchant and endear.<\/p>\n<p><span class=\"txtReview\">&#8211; Pop Matters<\/span><\/p>\n<p>I love Theo Ellsworth&#8217;s <em>Capacity<\/em> graphic novel. The art is often intricate and ornate and its one of the most imaginative, magical books I&#8217;ve ever experienced. It&#8217;s full of strange creatures, bizarre happenings and complex contraptions for a beautiful final product. I really like how <em>Capacity<\/em> is a lot about the creative process, how it works, where it comes from, and the author&#8217;s personal experiences with the demons associated with creating. It was very encouraging and thoughtful and left me feeling quite inspired. Whether trudging through an underwater town or skulking along dangerous meandering streets, readers get to follow the author on a quest for understanding himself, a place to feel inspired, and a way to put aside distractions long enough to put one idea to paper. I&#8217;ll admit that once the actual &#8220;Capacity&#8221; comics began, I was a little fidgety, hoping to get back to the interesting happenings at the opening of this graphic novel and how the author came to create his &#8220;Capacity&#8221; comics, but the actual comics soon warmed up to me and kind of took on the tone of the overall book, so I enjoyed the hell out of them as well. This is one of those books where you really don&#8217;t want to rush through it, but stop to stare at the crazy beautiful art on the pages, kind of savor it before moving on. I really can&#8217;t recommend this whimsical journey through one man&#8217;s mind enough. A true treasure.<\/p>\n<p><span class=\"txtReview\">&#8211; Comics and More<\/span><\/p>\n<p>Theo lives in another world. Most of the work in <em>Capacity<\/em> looks like he does it on the fly, just letting his mind wander and go wild. It&#8217;s really an adventure to read his mini-comics. The latest issue, #6, is by far his best, as he has perfected his craft. Don&#8217;t overlook this gem when you&#8217;re searching for something original.<\/p>\n<p><span class=\"txtReview\">\u2013 Matt Dembicki<\/span><\/p>\n<p>Ellsworth is such an incredible draftsman, he\u2019s bound to be discovered by the crew at <em>Fantagraphics<\/em> or <em>D&amp;Q<\/em> sooner or later. His artwork is reminiscent in some senses of David B\u2019s <em>Epileptic<\/em>, though it\u2019s more free-spirited, and certainly more richly textured. There\u2019s also a healthy dose of Jim Woodring mixed in there, though more in the bizarre concepts and characters than in the actual drawing style. Rather than straightforward storytelling, Ellsworth experiments with visual poems and short strips, including several pages of single panel gags, entitled &#8220;Shorts (as Opposed to Pants).&#8221; But the real highlight of the sixth issue is the opening poem, &#8220;Thoughts&#8221; in which the artist strips away all barriers of storytelling and character and simply lets his imagination run wild on the page, accompanied only by the sparse lyrics of his simple rhyme. What Ellsworth is really doing here is exploring the origins and nature of his own thoughts, and the whole thing is filled with fascinating creatures, machines and landscapes so compelling, you literally feel like an explorer visiting some distant planet. Ellsworth\u2019s line control is amazingly precise and his panels are dense with his singular visions, yet despite the meticulous detail, everything is clearly defined. The story also makes clever use of the thought balloon, that ubiquitous storytelling device that is often taken for granted, as he literally surrounds his panels with thought clouds. Ellsworth also hand letters everything in the book, assimilating the text into the art, adding to the overall effect.<\/p>\n<p><span class=\"txtReview\">\u2013 Marc Sobel, Unattended Baggage<\/span><\/p>\n<p>These visual tricks make Ellworth\u2019s story crackle with an energy often missing in a lot of autobiographical pieces. There are certainly more accomplished artists, but they might not have the same unique perspective that sets Ellsworth\u2019s comics apart.<\/p>\n<p><span class=\"txtReview\">\u2013 Size Matters<\/span><\/p>\n<p>With scaled and feathered monsters and boundary-blurring odysseys, Theo Ellsworth\u2019s dense black-and-white work evokes Sendak\u2019s <em>Where The Wild Things Are<\/em>. It might take some time to interpret some of the bizarre images in this hefty hardbound tome.<\/p>\n<p><span class=\"txtReview\">&#8211; Aaron Scott, Portland Monthly<\/span><\/div><\/p>\n<\/div>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>BIO Theo Ellsworth is a self-taught artist and storyteller living in the mountains of Montana with a witch doctor, their son and a slightly evil cat. He developed his art while wandering the United States in a motor powered vehicle. He is uncommonly fond of clouds, monsters, trees, and impossible objects. He is prone to [&hellip;]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"parent":962,"menu_order":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","template":"","meta":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/secretacres.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages\/973"}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/secretacres.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/secretacres.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/page"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/secretacres.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/secretacres.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=973"}],"version-history":[{"count":42,"href":"http:\/\/secretacres.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages\/973\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":6025,"href":"http:\/\/secretacres.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages\/973\/revisions\/6025"}],"up":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/secretacres.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages\/962"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/secretacres.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=973"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}