Marking August 2026 | a personal reflection
Exterior view of Curious Matter
In April of 2023 we did something unusual at Curious Matter: we shared some very personal news. We did so because we knew many of you would want to know, and because, as we wrote then, “our work and our program are always deeply personal.” We shared the news of the extreme pain Arthur was experiencing and the likelihood of prostate cancer. By June that year, the diagnosis was confirmed — metastatic Stage 4. The outpouring of good wishes and support that followed sustained us in ways we’ll never forget. To everyone who reached out, thank you.
The months that followed brought a course of treatment that relieved the agonizing pain Arthur had been enduring and gradually restored his mobility. We understood this was not a cure, but over time life began to recover a familiar rhythm. Not that it was a return to normal. In fact, it brought about a deep examination of our lives, our choices, and our future.
For Arthur, the questions raised became the foundation for a memoir, So Far Away No One Will Notice. What began as an attempt to find coherence within a cacophony of emotions became something that resonated far beyond what either of us expected. Arthur explored regrets, choices, and memories. He did this within the context of watching the limited series Fellow Travelers. The memoir unfolds through Arthur's examination of the series, creating a kind of call and response between the fictional narrative and his own life. The Emmy-nominated screenwriter and executive producer of the series Ron Nyswaner wrote that Arthur’s work was “a beautifully crafted memoir” and added, “I've never seen anything like it.” His generosity meant a great deal to us. Perhaps as gratifying was discovering how many readers found parts of their own lives reflected in Arthur’s.
The diagnosis also prompted long conversations between the two of us. We wondered whether we should begin living differently. Should we cash out and travel? Was there some bolder path we had postponed for too long? Were there decisions we’d regret not making? Ultimately, what we realized was that we liked the choices we’d made together. We liked the life we’d built. Rather than imagining a different future, we found ourselves wanting to continue what we’d already begun: continuing our art practices and the work of Curious Matter, engaging artists, our community and exploring and articulating our experience of the world through exhibitions, writing, and conversation. And so, our work has continued.
However, as we go on, it does feel different. Neither of us has ever been inclined toward five or ten-year plans. But living with what we call a ‘persistent condition’ remains part of our daily lives, and has sharpened our awareness of time. Arthur, especially, feels an urgency to finish his projects and pursue the ideas that continue to arrive in abundance. He remains incapable of leaving a question unexamined. He is still working in his studio, photographing, writing, and following his careening thoughts on art wherever they lead.
Something we’ve noticed is that when friends ask how Arthur is doing—and tell him how well he looks—there is often an understandable hope that this chapter has passed. It hasn't. Several of you have tried to reassure us by observing that any one of us could be hit by a bus tomorrow anyway. So far it hasn’t. We don't know why buses have become the preferred metaphor for mortality, but we've taken to acknowledging each one that passes without incident as yet another close call.
We’re offering this August update because the month has always been special for us. It is our shared birthday month. Mostly, though, we wanted to say thank you for your friendship, your generosity, your continued support, and for caring enough to keep asking how Arthur is doing.
We continue our work, explore new ideas, and feel fortunate that we get to do these things with each other.
In gratitude, Raymond + Arthur
