Rowan Collins
RESONATE SANCTUARY
About Rowan
My name is Rowan, and I am a freelance designer from the UK. I work primarily in book and magazine design, but also work as a photographer, writer, and editor.
The physicality of books and magazines is really important throughout my work, and I will happily spend hours researching materials, printing processes, and binding methods. I take a lot of inspiration from Japanese and Scandinavian design and art, which mostly expresses itself in my use of natural forms, materials, and colours, and my interest in craftsmanship and tactile, handmade elements.
How do you start your morning?
My morning ritual is perhaps the most important–or at least my favourite–of the day. During the week I leave the house quite early to go to my day job, so I only really have time for sharing tea and a simple breakfast with my partner, both of us quiet and sleepy-eyed, before we drive to work.
On my days off, however, I love to take my time and revel in those still, peaceful hours when the rest of the world hasn’t risen yet. I usually start with a cup of tea in bed, then head downstairs in my favourite jumper and thickest socks. Before I make breakfast, I say good morning to our dog and cuddle up on the sofa with him for a while; one of my favourite parts of the day. I then get to work in the kitchen and make one of my favourite breakfasts, usually something I don’t have the time to make during the week. After that my partner and I will put on our shoes and coats and take the dog out for a long walk. We’re living out in the countryside at the moment, so we take our pick of the country lanes and walk between the fields. As the year has passed, we have been lucky to so clearly see the seasons come and go, from the lush greens of spring to the vibrant gold of summer, through to the rich ochre and burnt umber tones of autumn, and now the cool, muted greys and blues of winter.
Creative Process
Although I take a lot of inspiration from nature and organic processes and materials, I actually work in a very organised and measured way. When starting a new project, I start with extensive research. I usually start by absorbing myself in any text or images that will be used in the project to get a clear sense of the tone and aesthetic I’ll be working with, then I’ll do thorough research into the project’s context; how and where it will be seen, who will see it, what the creator’s ultimate intentions and vision are, etc. Then I’ll delve into the design itself and explore physical format, colours, typography, materials, printing processes, and so on. Throughout this stage I refer back to the initial research, and as ideas begin to form I’ll do deeper, more specific research and experiments. This is usually a mixture of online research, going and visiting any relevant locations or going for a walk to let my thoughts flow, and buying paper samples and making physical mockups by hand. This is the most extensive part of any project, and if I’m working with a client it’s at this stage I’ll send them regular updates and incorporate their feedback into the design. The final stage is to work intensively on refining the details and checking everything over with a fine-toothed comb before sending the final files or physical outcome to the client.
Home
I’m quite sensitive to the space around me, so I put a lot of thought into it. I once heard a philosophy that every object in your home–even down to seemingly mundane items such as cutlery–should make you happy. That has stuck with me for several years now and is something I always keep in mind when bringing new items into my home; something I try to do only with intention and a good deal of thought.
I think physical spaces and the creator’s inner world are intimately linked. My own space certainly feels like an expression, and an extension, of my self. I crave quietness and simplicity; I place great importance on details, materials, and textures; I like to be close to nature; I think logically and tend to be very organised; all of this is reflected in my home and the objects within it. It’s almost a symbiotic relationship; on the one hand I am able to express myself through my home, and on the other I am able to create a space that helps me to feel more myself; the two feed into one another.
This time last year my partner and I had just begun a six-month-long trip around East and Southeast Asia. This has led me to do a lot of reflecting and reminiscing each day as I look back through our photos and remember where we were a year ago. This has inspired me to start writing down some thoughts and memories, mostly simple moments that I still remember so vividly. This is one of my favourites so far.
It was our first morning in Tokyo, and the very first morning of our trip. We woke up in our hostel bed, dazed from jet-lag and the many hours of travel that had led up to this point. Through the small window in our room we could see a quiet street in the Kuramae neighbourhood. The sky was grey and cloudy, and a gentle rain had left the pavements dark and glossy.
We made our way down to the hostel bar and ordered two rounds of fluffy Japanese omelette with black coffee for me and iced tea for my partner. The omelettes came with a thick slice of light, cloud-like bread, just lightly toasted, and a deliciously herby tomato sauce.
After breakfast, we pinned a few points on the map and ventured out into the drizzling rain, equipped with umbrellas and cameras. The hostel was right next to the Sumida river, so we started with a slow walk along the water’s edge. Being in a new place, somewhere we had wanted to visit for so many years, we were happy just to walk and take everything in. Even now I can still feel the flutter of excitement we carried with us that day, and every day for the rest of the trip; that sense of adventure, and the realisation that we were really, finally, here, on our biggest adventure yet.
As the rain picked up we walked back in the direction of the hostel and found a small shrine, tucked away at the end of a side street almost hidden by trees. We were alone, and free to admire the shrine’s small red torii gate and chōzu-ya; a stone basin with wooden ladles and running water, used for cleansing and purification before prayer.
It was muggy outside, the rain had begun to fall heavily, and the jetlag was starting to catch up to us, so we returned to the hostel lobby. We sat at a low table with cups of iced hojicha, and set to work turning our long list of sights to see into an itinerary for the rest of our week in Tokyo.
Evening Ritual
I almost love evenings as much as mornings. My partner and I usually get home late in the afternoon, and since we start work so early in the mornings this is when I usually go for a run. Running is a really important part of my routine and does so much for both my mental and physical wellbeing. After that we make dinner. We’re both foodies and like trying new recipes, so when we have enough time we make the effort to cook something new. Recently we’ve been making a lot of phở with mushrooms and tofu, and we’re on a quest to find the perfect dal tadka recipe. After dinner we usually take the dog out for another walk, which is always a valuable time for us to be phone-free, get some fresh air, and talk. When we get home we make tea, then get into comfy clothes and settle down upstairs to watch a movie or read before bed.
