GiraffeHome — a place where food remembers why it was created
Sometimes a spoonful of soup can comfort more than a hundred words.
Sometimes the smell of bread brings you home — even if you’ve long forgotten where that is. Sometimes coffee speaks to you softly, like an old friend:
Breathe. Everything is unfolding as it should.
At GiraffeHome, food is more than food. It’s a language of warmth we all understand without translation. It’s a quiet way of saying: “You’re not alone.” There will be ramen — like an embrace in a bowl.
Bread — like the morning after a storm. Good, honest food. Fresh pastries. Coffee with a piece of sun hidden inside. Here, you can simply come and be. Feel life passing gently through the steam above your cup.And maybe remember that love, too, is food — just for the soul.
GiraffeHome — a place that feeds you with light.
Cardamon Spell — one day only
The Road to the Meadow of Awakening
Giraffe Tapes returns home
About us
The Shadow That Knew the Light
The Fog That Remembers
The Alchemy of the Sea Buckthorn
Fado of the Dying Sun
Peter’s Pigeons
Whispers of the Acacia
Miro and the Three Days
Lift your gaze
Igo and the Silence He Heard
Lucia and the Voice That Woke Up Late
The Kitchen Where the World Comes Alive
I, Tejo, Architect of Unspoken Worlds
The Summit That Breathes Light
Where the Crickets Sing
To my grandmother Annushka
Odysseus
Victor’s plant
The Last Thirty Seconds
Lila’s Herbarium
When the Birds Return
Where Sound Ends: Ambient as a Way of Being
Not by path, but by memory
The bread rose in the oven
New Merch from giraffehome — Artifacts of Time on T-Shirts. Coming Soon
The Light Within
When the trees were small
Light through the window
I am giraffe tapes
The ocean
Analog vibes only
Priceless
A Lonely Tree Between Worlds
The Juggler from Childhood
The story of a certain rabbit
One Shot, One Chance
Reflection is looking at you
And we pretend to understand
A space of inspiration
Kundalini yoga at giraffehome
Love people not labels
Grandmother’s Rushnyks
Stay analog
Indian memories and captured radio waves via Rusted Tone Recordings
Film is not dead
Letters that were never sent
Sometimes a period is just a comma
Come to practice
The old wallpaper
Press play. Stay analog.
Play. Pause. Repeat.
What does the brick hide?
History speaks
Shunia mode
Photography isn’t just an image
The funicular glides slowly
Black and white symphony
