I spontaneously took a weekend trip to Munich to perform as an extra in an experimental theater piece.
Wednesday 25.02.26
16:00
The vibe is fertile. Venus trine Jupiter. Two pregnancy belles ringing. An exalted trine. International Women’s Day pink brunch came early midday Wednesday before my babysitting shift. Girls gather round, our annual Berlin tradition. Now everyone else is entering their thirties like us nannies, who are still hugging at the afters, periodically. It’s finally above freezing and everyone is playing techno outside because the sky is not gray for the first time in months.
It’s one of my bosss’ birthdays, same year and same decan of Pisces as Max Lange, an astrologer who lives in Munich. I know three people from Munich. I met them all individually. Coincidentally they all know Max, an astrologer who read my birth chart, Easter Sunday 2019. He told me I have the fate of a loser magnet.
BVG is on strike again. Sad to learn I’m breaking even on my trip to Munich, where I will be paid to be an extra in an experimental theater piece about a convent, Lulu Obermayer’s Schwester.
I’m drunk and crying tears of joy 26 minutes late for Kita pickup.
17:31
It just hit me that the BVG strike will be nationwide. I guess Mercury stations retrograde on Friday, without even looking it up.
Thursday 26.02.26
15:25
Cried tears of distress twice before the hour of divine mercy. Read the most pointless horoscope on earth. So what if it’s accurate. All horoscopes should say “you are reading a horoscope right now” and that’s it.
I went to my favorite place to lose myself to the Swan Lake soundtrack of Sostrene Grene. The cashier’s face was a mashup of two girls I consider angels. If two angel girls could have a teenage daughter that works as a cashier at my favorite store in my favorite location.
Friday 27.03.26
07:43
On the ICE 1003 train to München Hbf. Mercury stations retrograde in Pisces. God got me here atypically early, relaxed, first seated. Journaling, scheduling, emailing. The sunrise is diffused by the fog on the dewy fields. Windmills whirling beyond like a picture from a new edition of a 4th grade textbook illustrating examples of green energy in Germany.
I’m looking forward to rehearsal this evening. The experimental theater piece, Schwestern, premieres tomorrow night. I met our dramaturge, Lulu, through her best friend, astrologer Aliza Kelly. When I first moved to Berlin everyone put me in touch with their friends in Berlin.
08:17
I want to performatively listen to Steve Reich and and cry gazing at German industry on a cross country train. I thought Green Day guest list was most impressive until I remembered guest list for Steve Reich performing “Different Trains” at Symphony Space. Patti Smith reading Nico’s poetry at the Swiss institute on my 21st birthday was also remarkable. I fell asleep in the front row every time.
10:20
I wrote my name as Randon Rosenböhm for the first time outside of my CV. Böhm wie Czechia. Some German ancestors immigrated to New Orleans from the part of Prussia that held Köln. I imagine our family name is either old German or referring to Bohemia in origin. I mostly added the accent in reference to the Polka standard “Wilde Rosen aus Böhmen,”
It’s about being totally homesick and displaced but you still have the wild roses that you brought with you from homeland growing in the garden. It’s like if Mushroom at the end of the World was written by a white guy. It brought tears of joy to my eyes.
11:20
I wander into St. Michael’s church in the Munich old town. I am not typically a fan of baroque art, but I have never seen German baroque. I accept Versailles but baroque just reminds me of pre-enlightenment American Evangelicalism.
11:30
At the first Roman church in the city, established in the 12th century, a girl from a tour group of Italian students passes me a five cent coin that I don’t remember dropping. I used it to start the wood animatronic church, a five cent slot, after praying the stations of the cross. The machine lit up, a bell chimed, and a little mechanical monk rolled out of the dollhouse.
I walked into the frame of an Asian tourist’s photoshoot, her boyfriend was taking pics of her. I gesticulated laps around the nave, to virtue signal that I was praying.
13:00
It’s the first day of the year my bare arms meet the atmosphere. A hot guy? Is locked into at his phone on a bench at the farmers market, which somehow already has stunning tomatoes. My acupuncturist emailed back with a lot of exclamation points.
17:00
When I walked out of the cafe, he was standing on the other side of the crosswalk. He checked me out, which was enough. I feigned ambivalence, which never works, and that’s the point.
I fire back up my top songs of 2016 and hop on a lime bike so I can make it to rehearsal at least 15 minutes early. My first bike ride in six months, over the bridge over the turquoise glacial river.
Saturday 28.02.26
10:48
Already exhausted. Moved apartments Tuesday. Tonight is the premiere. Everyone is texting me about Iran.
12:00
I meet Max at a specialty coffee shop, where he shows me its birth chart and takes me on a walk through his hometown.
After my first real pretzel (the outside is supposed to be crispy! Knusprig ! Warum hat mir niemand niemals gesagt?? Dachte ich dass Ditsch die Optimale war, weil die so warme sind, aber den sind Kissensanft …) he shows me a church dedicated to the Holy Spirit featuring a unique cycle of paintings of the most abstract aspect of the triune Godhead. The figurative symbolism of the Holy Spirit is limited to a dove, or a flame, or water, so I found the subject matter ambitious if not surreal.
It was the first nice day of the year and a Saturday. I need to sit on the floor somewhere empty. We did, at a new age book store, est. c.1970’s, admired physical media, and complained about astrology.
We came across one of the most surreal political demos in Europe— it was the first time I have ever seen MAGA hats worn in the EU.
18:30
After walking 6 miles, a photographer/reporter comes to our dress rehearsal before the premiere.
21:45
Post premiere dinner is at Humboldt’s. I serve everyone family style feeling a little out of place but owning it. An older performance art curator from Zurich looks up from her phone. With her Russian accent, “they killed the Ayatollah.” I go “Kohmeni?” And everyone ignores me. I am the only American at the table.
Sunday 01.03.26
00:30
We head to a club where water is 5 euros, the music has big bonking beats and buildups to house drops, and boys go “woo”. I danced my heart out regardless, and walked back home, still listening to my 2016 playlist.
10:40
Mass times :
burgersaalkirche 3pm English
Traditional Latin mass allerheiligen 6pm
/St Michael organ concert 4pm
Rosary St Peter 5pm
Mass St Peter 6pm
Liebenfrau 6pm
No shortage of choice.
11:23
Someone in the hostel stole my steel tea bottle and now I’m drinking my TCM granules with microplastics. It tastes like earth and plastic. A pregnant mother cries out. I am too annoyed to write.
12:17
Munich boutique fitness club called Eternity. The branding is heaven and hell. I accidentally join a HIIT class where I realize I’m motivated by how hot the instructor is. I don’t care that he’s gay. He could just be Spanish. It’s as if I have never sweat before in my life.
14:56
Who else is here in 2026?
16:25
I walk into the largest renaissance church north of the alps just ten minutes late for the organ concert, genuflect, glide down the left nave to the very first pew, put up my hood, take off my glasses, and rest my face in my hands like an ancient nun. It guess she’s playing Brahms.
I know where the world has me wounded so I retreat behind the grid to heal. Self denial is not masochism, it’s not suicidal. I want to live, just not like you. I wonder when need becomes greed. I think about how much I detest greed in others. I’m just as guilty. It’s venial.
16:52
I feel music. Since the nuns taught me genuflection etiquette, I imagine I am a tabernacle. When the organ is big and the church is small, the bass massage is like dub communion. You don’t get so many wubs in a space as large as St Michael’s. Music needs to be as loud as possible. The smaller the space, the bigger the organ, the more interior the artwork, the more spiritual, the more incarnate.
17:15
Prayed the rosary from the freezing foremost pew of St Peter’s Church.
18:00
The priest opened with a perfect Latin hymn. Gospel today is the Transfiguration (“behold my son with whom I am well pleased”). The pews had heaters under the seat. I squirmed to get my cold wet feet on the radiator while kneeling.
20:30
After getting discouraged at Five Guys prices, I called mom from a Yemeni restaurant. All week I repeated, “going from Karl-Marx-Strasse to München Altstadt has given me whiplash.” Yet I retreat into the inter-city common familiarity of a neighboring Yemeni restaurant.
Monday 02.03.26
11:54
Reserved reformer class at Herspace — Sisterhood. Yes, they do do cacao ceremonies. As if Pilates class isn’t already unspoken as a woman’s space, they doubled down and named the studio “Herspace”. It’s still 2018 in Munich, and I’m totally high on the false optimism as I micro dose past lifestyles. When asked, I tell people that Munich is like Dubai to me.
12:45
On a reformer machine remembered my dream from last night: I had stigmata. In the mirror my Jubilee pilgrimage medal dangles over my dirty inside out sorrowful heart John Galt tank top. My borrowed chartreuse socks, without grip, have two bright red blood stains, perfect circles, on each Achilles heel.
13:30
Exiting the studio, an Apotheke called Blasius.
20:30
While performing: angel of the stage Emily Allan texts a photo of us together after her stage performance in Berlin with Rhys Bellamy, screenwriting student of Betsey Brown (also pictured). At the same time, Rhys Bellamy texts me from Aus announcing he finished the rough cut of his short film (which I worked like an absolute dog on last fall, as Production Designer).
I must have really transcended. The play opens with the 20:00 Compline or night prayer, the final prayer of the liturgy of the hours. On stage I felt the eyes of my feet opening and I pushed onto the outside of my feet, some somatic insights I once received from a dancer friend.
21:00
Max and I return to the Yemeni restaurant, and I insist we get Lamb Mandy, which is what I typically order at a Yemeni restaurant. It was the most rotten incarnation of Saturn in Aries yet witnessed. Horrendous.
Tuesday 3.3.26
14:00
Completely defeated, my legs don’t work anymore, I sit down for hours and send emails to convents and local publications as the eclipse happens across my third and ninth house axis.
18:30
I’m so exhausted that I want to listen to Breakaway by Kelly Clarkson. I’m seeking comfort.
AI recently told me I’m a true winter and a flamboyant natural then I was like who else fits the bill they were like Monica Bellucci and Megan fox then some random guy at the hostel guessed my age was 34 and now I’m looking into laser treatments in Poland while eating lotus root chips from muji feeling so scared and lonely
Food diary
Glass of prosecco ,2
40g lotus root chips muji
1 salmon onigiri edeka
Small handful studenten futter
21:47
The eclipse coats Munich in gauzy fog. I walk at a snails pace listening to Kelly Klarksohn.
23:30
The final run was absolutely perfect. I board the overnight train back to Berlin, hardly sleeping with a hoodie over my face.
The next morning I get a response from a Polish convent welcoming me to stay at the end of the month. I crash in my apartment, still completely unpacked from the move, take a nap, and show up late to my hair appointment, one day before a photoshoot.
It’s still 2018 in Munich > PAINFULLY accurate!!!!