musical tastebuds

  • Me: What are you listening to?
  • Philipa: Soundtracks.

New desk. With a cork board back. This is good.

Also, Spring has finally shown her beautiful face. This too, is good.

Ashes to ashes,

Glory to glory,

He is risen,

He is holy.

The Wyncott boys play bocci ball on Easter Sunday. Beautiful day.

Look not to riches or to rags; look only to clean garments, handed to you by pierced hands.

“Mrs Hudson’s been attacked by an American; I’m restoring balance to the universe.”

Just watched the first episode of Sherlock.


“O angel of my God, be near,
Amid the darkness hush my fear;
Loud roars the wild tempestuous sea,
Thy presence, Lord, shall comfort me.”
— Unknown

Fisherman’s Blues — The Waterboys

My birthday gift. Thanks, wonderful mother.

The only thing I asked for for my birthday: that watch.

photo by Joey Casillas

Joel Wyncott vlog VI: The Flame Came First

‘And he will be upheld, for the Lord is able to make him stand.’ — Romans 14:4

Here is a beautiful thing, Christian! Every day that you feel weak, that you are of little faith, that you feel the burden too much that you cannot stand under it any longer, remember this beautiful truth: the Lord is able to make you stand. You need not fear for falling, if only you trust in the Lord, for He will uphold you, brother.

You, O helpless child, need not rely on your own strength — indeed I urge you not to — but put your faith in God; for in His strong hand do you lie; He will not ever grow weary of carrying you.

4/5/’14, Joel

I nearly always end up getting upset with myself when I (try to) play the piano. I’m just not good enough for my own taste. Everything that I enjoy doing, I want to do with expertise. Music is something I so wish I were good at creating, and playing. I wish I could sit at the piano and play what I see; to be able to read notes as I read words. I want my hands, eyes and mind to work at the same speed: fast. It’s such a beautiful thing to experience, even just listening. I can’t imagine what’s it’s like to play something like Rachmaninoff without even a hiccup in performance.

I look forward very much to being Home, and being able to sit at the piano for years on end and never grow tired, never get irritated. Just to play, and perfect, and bask in the Father’s perfection, and the infinite complexities that will be then revealed to us.

‘For now we know in part, but then shall we know fully.’