Jacqulyn Nicole

I love...God, life, family, friends, coffee, even more tea, words such as captivate, allure, engage, dynamic, delight, mythic, epic, the effects that words have on people, bringing great joy and sadness, the whole range of human emotion, a picture may be worth a thousand words but they often need explaining, I love randomness, a bit of whimsy, I love to watch the way people interact with others, and to sit back and watch myself around different people, I love corporate worship, seeing a room filled with countless people raising their hands in worship to God, I love spending time alone with no sound or distractions, I love music, the way a single phrase in combination with a single line of melody can evoke emotion, I love art and color, I love when another’s creation – book, song, painting, drawing – resonates in my soul and I know that I am not alone, I love when people are real, let go of all artifice and show their hearts, I love when people are sincere in compliments with no agenda, I love the moment where a person is seen for what they really are, when someone looks past outward appearances and sees the hidden glory inside, I love the idea of forever friends one day looking at each other with new eyes, I love budding romances, the time before declarations are made and everything hangs in the balance all to culminate in that one moment where truth is revealed and hearts collide.

Favorite Quote:

"Jac was Jonathan's elder sister and a soul-mate to me, a true mentor, my right-hand man when the ranks clashed and our boar-crests had to take a battering in the line of action. She was everything the world admires in a wise man and a friend."

Favorite Poem of the Moment:

Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments. Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove.

O no, it is an ever fixed mark
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wand'ring barque,
Whose worth's unknown although his height be taken.

Love's not time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his bending sickle's compass come;
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
But bears it out even to the edge of doom.

If this be error and upon me proved,
I never writ, nor no man ever loved.

Shakespeare's 116th Sonnet