“My opinion, from the beginning of our professional relationship, is that Mia Broder is an outstanding artist. I think anyone who views her art would agree that she is a genius with creating a relief multi-media that the observer can become lost in by forming a relationship with each. What I love about being associated with Mia for the last 20 years is watching how she ‘threads’ her emotions into a piece, as if it is an additional ‘medium’ of her visual acuity, both sensory and intellectually.” -Keith Sweat, owner of Georgian Gallery.

I believe that the hard and the impossible are different, that creativity heals, and that being sick can be empowering. My name is Mia Broder. I am a mixed-media artist and graphic designer, born and raised in Henry County. I have received two diagnoses in my life that changed everything about who I thought I was and who I would become, where my creativity would guide me and give me purpose, when curiosity flourished as much as my inner strength expanded from unexpected growth.

The first was in my mid-twenties when I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder, a mental illness that causes extreme mood swings. For me, these can swing from racing hypomania to earth-shattering depression. Initially, as I fought my way back towards sanity, I picked up a camera. Photography slowed down time so I could breathe. I started processing the multitudes of emotions through self-published art journals and collages of my grandmother’s buttons, paper cut to form skirts, messy paints, and my voice. 

When I turned 40, it was my body, not my mind, that betrayed me. It stole my voice, slurring my speech, and my legs became so heavy they wouldn’t move. Pain and fatigue were unwanted squatters. The diagnosis was Functional Neurological Disorder (FND), a problem with the functioning of my nervous system and how my brain and body send and receive signals. It can be unpredictable and debilitating. 

Today, the gentle focus of mindfulness has become a powerful distraction during these hard episodes. When I cannot stand up, my creativity adapts to projects that involve sitting, like embroidery. It is the process, not the end product, that is the most healing. I’ve learned to work with the darkness and the light these illnesses evoke. I do not create because I can, but because I have to. My creativity is how I survive. 

By Mia Broder