Featured in Farrago Magazine Edition One 2026
Terrain is a concept bookstore and trans-disciplinary hub-organisation that brings together academia, arts, community, activism, literature, ideas and public forum. With a shop counter manned by experts in its key fields of interest (the exhaustive list of which can be found on its website), the initiative seeks to foster a space for like-minded individuals and a dynamic which supports curiosity and learning.
Originally planning to speak to an ‘expert’ at random, I visit on a random Sunday—not expecting for Cristina herself to be behind the counter. With earnest excitement, she says the timing is perfect: Recently released is her guest podcast on Camille Allen’s I Want Your Job, so the script is rehearsed and ready to go.
To step inside Terrain is to step through a silver door and onto a deep electric-blue floor. A rough, rock-like finish covers the walls of the store, painted with a wash of cold white paint. Sheets of matte aluminum are cut into blob-like organic shapes—a motif integrated into the shelves on the walls, the benches in the centre of the room and the counter. Atop the bench sits a Monstera plant, propagated into a wide vase.
To start, Cristina tells me what she told Camille—that her project was fortified over four years of local rejection, then hit a turning point when she was referred to an investor whilst working in Berkeley, California as a UniMelb exchange student.
“The guys I was working with were basically like, we've just lined you up with a meeting with our philanthropy partners next week—tell them what you told us. I was like, oh my god, shut the front door… then put together what was a very, I would say, slapdash pitch on my computer. Luckily I had years worth of failed pitches on my computer…”
“Almost like your research process,” I offer.
“Like research! Every time it gets rejected, you’ve then created this, like, edited piece of writing that’s forced you to think or critique it. So it’s refinement as you go. And I guess when I got to that time I was pretty sure of where it was, and they just understood it and said, Australia really needs that. Here’s the money. Which was crazy.”
Cristina says that for this to all happen in her twenties is a miracle, and marvels at how her once-crazy journey now looks like young people entering the Fitzroy store and thanking her for creating the space.
“In that interview that just came out, I said my industry secret is that the right door will always open. And if it doesn’t, you need to kick down the door or create your own. But what I didn’t say, is that you need to then hold that door open for others. Now that Terrain’s created the groundwork to get that door open in the space, the people that come in next–like, younger me, [who] would have walked in here and been like, yay!”
She credits the lineage of mentors she’s had over the years and quotes a Navajo elder in California who advised that before the beginnings of a project, a person should ask themselves: what kind of ancestor they would like to be?
“It’s like the orienting of time. How does this shift and what could those ripples be?
The ethos Cristina works around is one of curiosity and immaterial praxis. She recalls feeling that such a space would support her way of thinking, and that she couldn’t be the only person thinking that way.
“We constantly focus on– and it’s really important that we do– on the kind of technological aspect and the material solutions affiliated with what it means to sustain sustainability transitions (the world economy, systems, the way we live), but we don’t talk about immaterial sustainability, which is hard to quantify and otherwise hard to implement into the kinds of frameworks that we have, and that’s stuff like… human empathy, compassion; our relationship to anything beyond the self.”
“When you remove the boundary and almost diffuse or redefine what the human self is, and it encompasses all the definitions of nature… how do we behave in that way… that’s actually the work that needs to be done as an undercurrent to enable the longevity of the solutions that we enact on a material level.”
She describes the common occurrence of people entering the store and this philosophy immediately clicking for them.
“... the reason why it [previously] didn't get there is because the language was around addressing immaterial sustainability; about addressing a relationship with the more-than-human world, which is completely intangible in a way. And we're struggling to find energy in recycling!”
It’s this previous lack of understanding in Australia, Cristina reasons, that explains the four years of rejection her Terrain proposal received from “every funding body who you would actually think would be the ones funding this.”
“I tried to hold those rejections and not let them, you know, make me want to give up. Because that amount of rejection does make you feel a bit crazy. But to now have undergrad students coming in and confirming that this is supporting their curiosity, rather than it being denied… that’s awesome.”
I ask about the vision Cristina originally had for Terrain, and whether what it’s evolved into now matches up with it. In Four Years of Rejection-Land, what does an expectation even look like? Can the immaterial results of a project be accounted for?
It’s hard to reflect on, she admits. “I still feel like I'm so in it. Like, I haven't had too many pauses since it's been opened to even take the distance or space to take a full gaze outward…”
“In saying that, like... the way that people hang around here or interact, I think, has... totally blown out my expectations… I knew it would be a social space, but the actual people within Terrain’s orbit are so cool and interesting and curious and openminded, intellectual, sharp, and it's really beautiful. Like, that's something you can only plan so much.”
Cristina explains that the intention of the space was to bring people back into their sensorial bodies through the choice of materials, which encourage sensory curiosity and exploration.
“We’ve taken ourselves so far out of our bodies these days in modern culture. We’ve really separated ourselves, like, drawn ourselves into screens and forgotten that the world is sensorial. There's many senses that can be engaged, and just by the act of engaging you bring yourself back into the present, which, in a way, is like bringing yourself into a meditative state. And when you're in that kind of state, all kinds of wonderful things can happen. You have great thoughts, you can engage with compassion, you can have space for people, and think with consideration and… all kinds of things.
… Starting there, getting people back into that frequency, is really important. That goal went into the design and the concept. People walk in from the street and they're drawn into this strange looking interior design, [and] they are immediately entering the space with a frame of curiosity. So by entering with a state of awe, kind of joy, wonder, curiosity, we're actually positioned to take on ideas and value-based change, which is exactly what we need to do, to enable the kind of change that's needed. So, that was all research that went into the design, and then just observing the way that people now interact—everybody's very much doing those things.
They're asking questions, they're asking about the materials, they're asking why these books, what are the topics, which is awesome. And then whoever is in the bookshop has, like, got some kind of knowledge around an answer to these questions, so they can kind of direct, you know, attention or curiosity in that way.
The act of discovery is really powerful, because if they've then discovered a book themselves, in that mindset, that's actually, like, more of a way to take on information as well. Because you found it, like, you discovered it. It wasn't prescribed.
A lot of the time, something that's also surprised me is that people come in, and they'll pick out a book, and then they'll ask me or whoever's sitting here for a recommendation, and then you make some suggestions based on their niche topic, and then they always go back to the first book that they picked up. Like it's some kind of magical oracle card they found. And that's, honestly, a big prop as well, to the beauty of physical bookshops, and having brick and mortar and physical spaces—and how important they are, because that experience, even with an algorithm, you can't really match that randomness.
Like, there is also no randomness in ‘algorithmic random’. Even, I think, Cloudflare, the tech company, are the ones that created the best randomiser algorithmically. And it's actually based on real world objects. It's with the room that they have at their data centre, with a whole wall of lava lamps. So that was actually how they generate random security keys and funnily enough, it's based on physical objects. So I think there's something to be said there about the importance of physical spaces.”