Work Hard, Wander Smart: A Week in Boston

Business trips often blur into a familiar rhythm of meetings, hotel lobbies, and hurried meals, but every so often, one emerges as something more—a reminder of why we do what we do. My recent trip to Boston was exactly that. The primary purpose was clear: a series of intensive consultant workshops with Safdie Architects for the Marina Bay Sands Tower 4 integrated resort expansion. It was a milestone in a multi-year transformation effort, and to be in the company of such legendary creatives and seasoned development professionals was both humbling and invigorating.

Safdie Architects, renowned for redefining urban landscapes, needs little introduction. Yet, sitting across from them, engaging in dialogue about the future of Marina Bay Sands, I was struck by the quiet weight of their collective experience. It wasn’t just about architectural vision—it was about translating complex operational needs into spaces that feel effortless, spaces that tell stories. To have a voice in that conversation, to contribute to shaping a project that will redefine Singapore’s skyline, felt like a culmination of decades of work and a challenge to reach even further.

In these workshops, ideas flowed as freely as the coffee. We dissected guest experiences, debated design nuances, and navigated the ever-present tension between ambition and feasibility. These weren’t theoretical discussions—they were blueprints for the future, woven from the fabric of design, operations, and cultural context. It was a masterclass in collaboration, a space where every perspective sharpened the whole.

Yet, as intense and rewarding as the workshops were, I found equal value in the moments outside of them. Boston, a city dense with history and intellect, beckoned in the slivers of free time between meetings. I wandered through Harvard Yard, where the air seems permanently charged with curiosity. Cambridge’s streets unfolded like a living archive—bookstores, cafés, and quiet corners where ideas once sparked revolutions.

From the ivy-draped walls of academia, I found myself drawn to the industrial charm of the SoWa Art District. Converted warehouses now pulse with creative energy, housing galleries and studios that feel at once intimate and expansive. There’s something grounding about stepping into spaces where creativity is raw and unpolished, a reminder that every iconic project begins as a sketch, a conversation, a risk.

The South End, with its brownstones and understated elegance, felt worlds apart from Singapore’s sleek futurism. Yet, its quiet streets and local markets carried a sense of familiarity. It was in these quieter corners that I reflected on the contrasts between Boston and Singapore. Singapore is a study in hyper-efficiency—a city-state where architecture often reaches towards the sky in bold gestures. Boston, by contrast, leans into its past, its growth organic and layered.

Still, there was comfort in the familiar echoes of the East Coast. Boston’s brisk air, its neighborhoods stitched together by character rather than planning, reminded me of Atlanta. The cadence of conversation, the subtle resilience in the people—it was like revisiting an old friend. After years in Singapore’s meticulously curated environment, Boston’s textured imperfections felt refreshingly honest.

There’s something to be said for making the most of a demanding schedule. A packed itinerary doesn’t have to preclude discovery. If anything, it heightens it. Each neighborhood explored, each street wandered, felt like reclaiming fragments of the day that might have otherwise been lost to fatigue. In the balance of work and exploration, I rediscovered the energy that first drew me to a career that spans continents and cultures.

This is the essence of a designer’s life—never tiring of the journey, always curious about how cities breathe and evolve. Whether in the glass-and-steel future of Singapore or the cobblestone charm of Boston, every urban environment offers lessons. They speak of history, of community, of aspiration. And it’s in understanding these layers that we can design spaces that resonate beyond aesthetics.

Returning to Singapore, I carried with me not just notes from workshops or design sketches, but moments—quiet reflections in Boston Common, conversations overheard in Harvard Square, the tactile warmth of brick and stone beneath my hands. These experiences, though unplanned, are the quiet fuel behind the formalities of design.

There’s an understated magic in moving between global hubs. Each city reveals new ways of thinking, living, and connecting. It’s a privilege and a challenge to draw from this diversity, blending it into work that must serve millions yet feel personal to each. This is the duality I’ve come to embrace—the rigor of project delivery balanced with the wonder of discovery.

Boston reaffirmed that. It reminded me that even amidst deadlines and deliverables, there’s space to breathe, to learn, to observe. And in those moments, creativity finds its sharpest edge.

So here’s to the next flight, the next workshop, the next city waiting to be explored. There’s always more to see, more to learn, and more to create.