A Conversation with Elizabeth
1998
Hello

From:          Elizabeth  
To:            LMixson@PEC.com
Sent:          Friday, November 6, 1998 5:05 PM
Subject:       Hello
 
Thanks for letting me know about me continuing to send messages while all this is going on with you.  I didn't want to keep "chirping along" as if nothing were happening to you, but on the other hand, I thought that by keeping on writing, it would sort of keep things "normal" between us.  In other words, I didn't want to just stop writing, because you were going through difficulty and weren't up to replying back.  I think I went through a phase like that after my mother's death, where I didn't feel like responding to things, as if I didn't have the motivation.  I guess I kept wondering though that Julie might change her mind. 
 
I went to the lecture and exhibit on American Impressionism last night.  The exhibit is incredible. I really like the works. Some of them were so good I almost felt I could "walk into" them. The lecture was so-so.  The reception was wonderful in terms of food, quite elegant choices--two huge baked brie cheeses, one with an inner layer of walnuts.  A huge blue cheese of some sort with a black rind that I couldn't identify, Also some elaborately layered cheese and other substances (?) presentations which I couldn't identify.  Also there was sliced cold tenderloin and biscuits, grapes, huge olives, baklava, and these lemon wedges of some kind of tart that were out of sight.  The drawback is that Montgomery is a strange city socially, and basically no one even spoke to me, except "in passing" while I was there. I went through a phase when I first moved here when it bothered me how "closed" the art/music community is here.  Now, I've had others tell me, it's been the same with them, and it took them years to "break in." (I don't think I ever will.) Basically, I didn't "belong" with the group which was there.  This "group" sort of knows who belongs and who doesn't.  They scan your face, with no expression on their's, just to "identify"
you--if they don't know you as one of "them"--they just look away--no smile, no hello, no nothing.  It is like you are "nothing."  At first, when I moved here, it was so bizarre, because I was used to friendly cities and environments like college towns.  Oh, well, I pay my 25/yr to be a "member", while they probably donate a million to collect the works.  They are what people call "old Montgomery."  Even if they do ask your name, they "know" right away that your "name" isn't one of THE NAMES.  I had one man recently tell me that he went to a downtown church here, and for a whole year, no one ever spoke to him, and if spoke, they would just quickly move away.  It's the old established Episcopal church and its where many of these "old Montgomerians" go.  I go there for the organ concerts in Spring.  I find it fun to study the clothes.  There is a very thin line of acceptability.  You will hardly ever see a "print"
unless it is a subdued plaid.  Colors are out.  Black is the color of choice for women, or ironically a red, as in a blazer.  No one is obese.  No one is black.  (I saw one.)  Men wear conservative blazers.  The people are NOT "artsy" at all--no strange deviations or "flamboyancy."  It is ultraconservative.  Once when I was walking in the part near the museum I watched women go in for a concert--everyone was wearing black (and no they were not the players).  At the Spring organ concerts, I sort of wondered what to wear.  Do you believe, black, and the "red" blazer were the norm there as well--even though it was Spring. 
Fortunately I have two black skirts, which I wear all the time anyway, because I just happened to have them.  Anyway, write when you feel like it.  Elizabeth

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