Rubo Sun on Restore Hub and the Future of Urban Logistics

It’s a meaningful affirmation that conceptual work—whether it’s rethinking typologies or experimenting with materials—has a place in the larger design conversation. It encourages me to keep exploring ideas that challenge convention and expand what architecture can be.

It’s opened up new conversations with peers, collaborators, and even clients who are more receptive to experimental work. It’s also brought a renewed sense of confidence—not just personally, but across my design team—to keep pushing boundaries and thinking outside the box.

Experimentation is essential to me. I often combine unexpected materials or components, sometimes intentionally mismatched, just to observe the clash. That friction often reveals surprising relationships and leads to solutions that feel alive, not just composed. It’s in those moments of unpredictability that new design directions emerge.

I like reading. I often find inspiration in small, easily overlooked details from history, culture, or social systems—things that aren’t usually seen as “design material.”

Sometimes it’s a ritual, a forgotten object, or a societal pattern that sparks a concept. These serve as lenses for my design process, and it’s deeply satisfying when the fragments come together with their own subtle logic.

Design is a tangible, time-intensive process, and its outcomes can be infinite. I think a good process is about recognizing when the design is ready to face the world as it is.

When I’m designing for a specific client, I’m very aware of the boundaries, and their needs come first. When I’m the client, though, I stay true to my concepts and design freely. That distinction helps me stay grounded and respectful of the context I’m working within.

The challenge was finding the balance between boldness and practicality. I overcame it by trusting the process and allowing the design to evolve organically.

I step away and shift my focus by reading, walking, or observing things unrelated to design. I trust that ideas will return when I give them space.

I believe design is about revealing what people didn’t know they needed.

Don’t be afraid to feel unsure about your design, because uncertainty is often a sign that you’re exploring something original. If you feel too certain, it may mean the idea has already been done or tested before.

Lina Bo Bardi is an architect I admire. I love how her work is grounded in social purpose and deeply connected to place and people, while still bringing her own strong aesthetic voice. Her ability to balance cultural sensitivity with personal expression is something I find both rare and inspiring.

The question I hope to hear is, “Are you satisfied with your work?” and my answer would be, “Not yet, but I will be.”