He was certianly aware of curved spacetime. Although, he would never say he observed it directly. One couldn’t observe it directly he felt. He would look around it or past it. Even the way it felt to look at others that were actively observing it was far to overwhelming.
But what else was there to observe. Once he became aware of curved spacetime, there were few other things that felt worth observing. Not that curved spacetime was pleasant to be around. In its presence, he felt as if he was being pulled toward it; it took all his energy and concentration to move away. He felt hot near it, and he would sweat uncontrollably. When it left, he would feel temporairy relief and then cold as the sweat dried on him and then empty, sometimes hungry, but he didn’t have an appetite.
That feeling of emptiness that drove him to be near it again. He classified that as addiction. It made him feel as though he already had been pulled into it. Far past the point of no return; frozen in time and space for infinity unable to know if time was passing or if all time had passed in an instant.
When he observed it for what he believed to be the last time, he felt a sense of pride as an observer. He was proud that he had been able to keep some resemblence of a professional distance where others had failed. And to his suprize, as he increased his distance from the curved spacetime, he didn’t feel empty. Instead, for the first time, he felt full.