For years (all too few, though they were), his huge hands painted the faces of the world's most well-known women. They were stars, but so was he. In my mind, he was the bigger star ... he had a gift that could make the plainest woman look and feel radiantly beautiful.
During the "Supermodel Years", when I was just beginning to play with make-up and discover my abiding love for it, this awesome man was showing the world what make-up could mean. When I decided that pursuing make-up artistry was something I was serious about, I pored over anything I could find relating to him - studying his books, image by image; reading about his life; revelling in the fabulous faces he produced.
Kevyn Aucoin, though I never had the fortune to meet him, has been my mentor. He has shown me how make-up, seemingly such an insignificant thing, can serve to uplift, empower, and strengthen. Through his example, I can find the beauty in any and all faces. It is a great sadness that I will never be able to tell him what his life's work has meant to me. Though, perhaps he knows.
If heaven has a make-up room, I want Kevyn to paint my face. When I finally see Jesus face-to-face, I want to look my best.