Film Day 3 - Glenn Webb, The Angel of the Chasm

Aug 1

Wings Without Straps: A Story of Quiet Grace

The day of my monologue recording felt like more than just a rehearsal—it was a moment wrapped in quiet blessings. From the instant I arrived, anticipation buzzed in the air. I was handed the angel wings, and as I slipped them on for the first time, something stirred in me. They were beautiful—majestic, even—but my eyes went straight to the shoulder straps. Functional, yes, but far from seamless. I wondered aloud, How can I hide these?

Soon, I stepped in front of the camera for my first run-through. That’s when I met Naee and Chris—two souls who would become unexpected angels in their own right. As I stood there, adjusting my posture and preparing to speak, I noticed them whispering to each other, heads tilted in quiet conversation. I had a feeling it was about me—not me, exactly, but something about my appearance. I asked gently, “Is it about me? You can tell me, I promise I won’t mind.” They smiled and brushed it off. “It’s nothing,” they said.

But I knew. I waited a beat, then asked again, reassuring them that I welcomed their thoughts. Finally, Naee looked up and said with a spark of kindness, “We have to fix those straps.” I laughed, “I knew that’s what you were talking about!”

Without hesitation, Naee disappeared into the office next door. I could hear her rummaging through drawers and boxes, searching with purpose. Minutes later, she returned with a handful of clips, bits of fabric, and—of course—tape. Her eyes gleamed with determination.

With Chris nearby, Naee began the delicate process of reengineering the wings. She pulled, tucked, clipped, and apologized as she worked, treating the costume and me with care. It wasn’t just a fix—it was a transformation. When she stepped back, the wings floated behind me, ethereal and unburdened by visible straps. I looked in the mirror and saw not just a costume, but a vision realized.

In that moment, I felt the blessing of being seen—not just for the performance, but for the details that mattered. Naee and Chris didn’t just help me look the part; they helped me feel it. Their quiet attention, their willingness to act without fanfare, turned a small concern into a shared triumph.

And so, with invisible straps and visible grace, I stepped into my monologue not just as a performer, but as someone lifted by the kindness of others. That day, the wings weren’t the only thing that carried me.