Brave New Brain - An interview with Lotje Sodderland

On Sunday 11 May, we joined artist, author, and filmmaker Lotje Sodderland at House of Annetta in Shoreditch for the opening of the Brave New Brain exhibition.

Artwork by Mike Poole

The exhibition

As the culmination of a project exploring the intersection of neurodiversity and creativity, Brave New Brain brings together images and artefacts that explore isolation, the search for meaning beyond convention, and the creativity that emerges when familiar patterns dissolve — offering a powerful insight into the neurodivergent experience. 

Submit to Love artists Jason Ferry, Mike Poole, and Sam Jevon exhibited their work in the fascinating, time-suspended setting of House of Annetta, just off Brick Lane. 

Artwork by Jason Ferry

The book

The event also marked the launch of Sodderland’s book, Morphology – A Diary of Day Dreams, a striking visual anthology featuring work by both celebrated and outsider artists. The book explores how neurodivergent people experience, process, and express the world around them.

It includes contributions from several Submit to Love studio artists, including Trevor Small and Brian Searle

I wanted to create something that didn’t explain neurodivergence, but rather embodied it; something that made space for ambiguity, sensation, and nonlinear thought.
— Lotje Sodderland

Jason Ferry as featured in the book

The exhibition runs until Saturday 17 May — don’t miss it! 

Brave New Brain

House of Annetta

25 Princelet St, London E1 6QH

Open until Saturday 17 May, 11am-4pm

Crazy Community by Sam Jevon

The interview

Lotje Sodderland is an artist, author, and filmmaker whose work delves into neurodiversity, perception, and the transformative power of creativity. Her journey began after surviving a life-altering hemorrhagic stroke at age 34, which left her with aphasia, visual impairments, and cognitive challenges. This profound experience became the foundation for her acclaimed documentary My Beautiful Broken Brain, co-directed with Sophie Robinson and executive produced by David Lynch. The film, available on Netflix, captures Sodderland's recovery and her altered perception of reality through self-recorded videos and stylized visuals.

We caught up with Lotje Sodderland to find out more about her work, her inspiration, and the vision behind her new book.

What is Morphology – A Diary of Day Dreams about and why did you want to make this book?

Morphology is a poetic and visual meditation on neurodivergence, imagination, and altered states of consciousness. It’s a kind of dream-diary-meets-art-book—a space where visual art, speculative ideas, and lived experience intersect. I wanted to create something that didn’t explain neurodivergence, but rather embodied it; something that made space for ambiguity, sensation, and nonlinear thought.

The book brings together photography, collage, and text to explore how different brains experience time, memory, and perception. It’s primarily a visual story, with very little text—designed to be accessible to people who, like me, have reading difficulties.

I made it because I needed it to exist. I couldn’t find anything that reflected my inner world, so I created this as an act of translation—of dream into form.

You visited our Submit to Love art studio. What were your first impressions of our community? Why did you decide to include some of our members' artworks in the book?

I’d been wanting to visit Submit to Love for over a decade—ever since I had a haemorrhagic stroke 12 years ago, which left me with significant language and visual impairments, as well as epilepsy. But for a long time, I was too nervous. I worried it might feel too raw, too close to home—too triggering.

I finally made the visit as part of my Brave New Brain Arts Council research, and what I found was the complete opposite. Walking into Submit to Love felt like stepping into a world powered by raw creativity and deep care. There was this incredible sense of openness, humour, and collective strength in the room. I included members’ work in Morphology because their art spoke directly to the themes I was exploring: neurodivergence, altered perception, and the beauty of difference.

Their pieces brought honesty, energy, and emotional depth to the book—things you can’t manufacture. It felt essential that their voices and visions were part of the story.

You co-directed, amongst others, the award-winning documentary My Beautiful Broken Brain (available on Netflix) and the short doc WE ARE THE TREE: how was the experience of making these films? Who should watch them? What would you like them to learn?

Since my haemorrhagic stroke, my work has centred on themes of vulnerability, perception, and the value of overlooked lives. My Beautiful Broken Brain explored the surreal experience of rebuilding after brain injury, while WE ARE THE TREE looks at the intersection of neurodiversity and the refugee experience through the story of Manal, a grassroots activist.

I’m now developing a feature documentary about a migrant care worker trafficked to the UK—building on ideas from my short film Limbo about the invisibility and exploitation of care work. Across these films, I aim to challenge what—and who—we value, and to open more space for empathy, curiosity, and impact, ultimately policy changes. Call me an idealist!

Which barriers are people living with brain injury facing in our society? What should change?

In my own experience, living with a brain injury means facing constant, often invisible barriers. Hidden disabilities like extreme anxiety, cognitive fatigue, sensory overload, and communication difficulties have shaped how I move through the world.

These challenges aren’t always visible to others, which can make them even harder to explain or justify. I’ve found that most systems—healthcare, work, even social spaces—are built around neurotypical expectations, with very little room for alternative ways of processing or existing. That mismatch can be exhausting. And sometimes, the stigma and isolation that come with being misunderstood feel just as disabling as the injury itself.

Do you think art and creativity are important elements in the recovery process after brain injury? Why?

Yes—art and creativity have been central to my own recovery. After my brain injury, I lost many of the tools I once relied on to make sense of the world—language, memory, even my sense of time. Creativity gave me a way to communicate when words failed, and to process experiences that felt chaotic or fragmented.

Art allows space for ambiguity, for multiple truths, and for expressing things that don’t fit into neat medical or social narratives. It’s not just therapeutic—it’s a form of agency.

Artwork by Sam Jevon