The first winter morning light in Edinburgh feels different from home. It reminds me of 6am in Bangkok, when the city is still and the air is cool. But the light that filters through my apartment window here, in a small three-storey flat, is not the same as the light that once touched the windows of my high-rise home in Bangkok. It is softer, colder, and carries a scent of sea air.

Can I call Edinburgh my home? I am not sure yet. I have entered my third year in this city, and each season brings change — new homes, new faces, and new ways of seeing.

There was a time when I was a student.

A time when I lived abroad again after graduation, seeking inspiration in California.

A time when I lived alone, without best friends or housemates.

A time when I did not know who I was, where I belonged, or what I wanted to do.

A time when I felt lost in my career and uncertain about my path forward.

After moving house five times within the city, I have begun to understand what it truly means to make a place feel like home. For me, it starts with rooting inward — learning to express myself honestly, no matter where I am.

Moving 9,800 kilometres across countries meant crossing worlds: geography, culture, values, and light. Bangkok was fast-paced, structured, and full of rhythm. Edinburgh is introspective, organic, and soulful.

Finding a sense of belonging

My first year here was all about exploration — discovering new streets, new knowledge, and new ways of living. I found joy in the simplest things: the architecture of the city, cosy cafés, independent stores tucked into corners, and the way spring water sparkles in the air.

Slowly, I began to rebuild and rediscover myself. I walked from the city to the sea, through Leith Walk to the Ocean Terminal where the Royal Yacht Britannia rests. The walk itself taught me to stay with myself, to notice the nature woven into the city, the diverse cultures along the road, and the dynamics of daily life.

Art, too, found me here. Edinburgh’s creative spirit hides in small corners — murals, galleries, and poetry in window displays. These details awakened my creative instinct again.

Creativity as a way home

Nature persuaded me to get closer to flowers, my way of expressing both art and emotion. It began with a simple bouquet I made for a friend’s graduation in winter 2023. That moment bloomed into something bigger. I learned new flower species, how to care for them in a colder climate, and how their lifespans echoed the rhythm of the city.

Working with flowers became a healing practice — a conversation between hands, heart, and nature.

Before this, I was trained as an architect, and I used to express myself through drawings and design, not words. When I first moved here, I had to strengthen my second language, English. During that time, I felt voiceless creatively. Slowly, I discovered other ways to express my feelings: photography, drawing, reading, and floral design. Each became its own form of meditation.

East meets West

Culturally, moving from Southeast Asia to Northern Europe has taught me independence and respect for solitude. Here, privacy and personal space are valued; freedom and human rights are protected. I have learned to enjoy my own company and to see independence not as loneliness but as peace.

Home, I have realised, is something that grows within. It is how I learn to stay grounded and perceive the world around me through an artist’s eye.

My flower project, Floral Reef & Co, has become my bridge between East and West, connecting my East Asian roots with this new landscape. What began as an online flower shop has evolved into a mindful floral brand rooted in Edinburgh. It embodies the balance I have been seeking: creativity, cultural connection, and well-being. Floral art has long held meaning in Asian philosophies such as Ikebana, where arranging flowers reflects the harmony between nature and the soul. In the West, I have found that same spirit expressed through well-being projects and community workshops. Here, art and healing coexist beautifully.

Homecoming

Sometimes, home finds you in the softest ways — through winter light, through nature, through the courage to start again. Feeling at home is not about returning to where I was born. It is about arriving at a version of myself that feels whole, grounded, creative, and open.

Just listen to yourself, and take the path your heart tells you.

Sara Ananrojwong is a multidisciplinary artist based in Edinburgh who connects people with nature through floral art, experience design, and visual storytelling. Her work explores the intersection of culture, place, and human experience — particularly how mindful living can support emotional well-being.