Writer Program


As the senses and distractions are deprived within the float tank, imaginations are left to wander, explore and create, making floatation therapy a great tool for creatives. 

To demonstrate how we value this creative expansion at Grey Matter Float, we will be compiling the documented words of our writers and displaying them in the common spaces, as well as on social media and the Grey Matter website.


  • Monthly writer–we want to allow as many writers the chance to receive the creative and expansive benefits of floatation therapy; therefore, we are circulating writers each month.
  • Writers will receive three complimentary 60-minute floats. 
  • Writers will also receive a personal referral code for friends, family and acquaintances. When eight people use that code, the writer will receive one free float.
  • Writers can be authors, poets, lyricists, etc.
  • At the end of your float package, we request the writer creates one original piece, inspired by the float experience. This piece will be displayed at Grey Matter in a writer’s journal and will always be displayed on this page under “Past Writers” with a link to the writer’s website or social media.
  • Writers are invited to read their float-inspired stories, poems, etc. at future Grey Matter wellness events. 
  • An exchange of posts on social media is all we ask of writers.

Learn more about other benefits of floating here.

Participate in the Grey Matter Writer Program

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    Shari Cross is a 35 year old writer and teacher who lives in Santa Fe, New Mexico. When she’s not living in her head with her fictional characters, you can find her teaching first grade, reading, or cuddling with her husband, her baby girl, and her dog. 

    The Void

    By Shari Cross

    What will you feel when you lose me? When you reach out and that tether falls into a void instead of finding me on the other end? It will happen. This dance between us is not sustainable.

    How will it feel to get nothing back but your own echo, laced with a breath that used to be mine? Will you feel that loss? That ghost of my presence standing over your shoulder, within arms reach, but never tangible.

    Will you regret then? Will you wish you had offered more during this dance of ours? Led me down a different path? One that ended with us jumping into the void together, not knowing where we’d land but hopeful that it would be in each others arms.

    There were no promises in the void, but I would have explored it with you. Tied my tether to your lips, where your words and breath filled me with life.

    But those lips aren’t mine to be tied to. Your words aren’t only for me. They could be. I believe there’s a part of you that wants them to be, but you also know that words are often nothing more than a ruse. So you won’t offer me yours and you don’t believe mine.

    That’s the irony; that when the music fades away it will not only take the lyrics we wrote with it, but also the ones we kept inside. Neither of us will ever know the full truth, the real depth of it all.

    And now the dance is coming to an end, the music fading into a distant melody; and it’s taking you with it. The tether pulls, telling me to look back and find you, to wrap it around you and hold on with all I have. But I know that if I do, another dance will start, only to end more painfully than the last. The push and pull of thirsting for something so much that you fear when you give in, it will only drown you. So I won’t look back. I’ll cut the tether and let you fade until your song becomes my past; the melody of what we could have been in harmony with the reminder of what we lost. 

    William Curtis began typing poems on 14th Street in New York City in 2006.  He was turned on to the art of street writing living with artist & friend Zach Houston in the Bey Area in 2002.  Since then William has traveled widely with Poem Store, from Miami, FL to Seattle, WA.   Recently living in Nevada City, CA & now warming the hearts of the Southwest.

    William was a subject for a King 5 news story, working the farmer’s markets in Seattle in 2014. He has been written about by the Associated Press and featured in the LA times.


    “Cosmic Love is absolutely Ruthless and Highly Indifferent: it teaches its lessons whether you like them or not.”

    John C. Lilly

    enter the void. 
    let go & float upon a tiny ocean.  

    rest in a cradle 
    beyond memory, beyond civilization. 
    travel through realms of deep sleep 
    to placid waters of introspection.  
    eternal night of eyes unseeing.
    closed yet opened up 
    to the brilliance beyond the physical, 
    beyond the sliver of so-called reality.  

    In the living field of dream & image of belief. 
    In the roots of the subconscious waters
    sending forth the manifestations of our lives.  

    surrender & float past the known 
    into vast space of deep silence, 
    of presence…
    of mind’s thoughtless ripples… 
    smooth, silky, salty & clear.

    hear the song of total silence
    & you have touched the root of speech.
    let us speak our truth.

    true, authentic being sprouts forth form non-being. 
    let us find comfort in non-being. 
    the more we know this place
    the more we know our true selves.
    let us find peace & rest In the void,
    then we may know good honest action
    springing forth joyfully into the heart of matter.

    be familiar with the substrate.
    know grey matter & 
    bring forth the
    brilliant colors of your own life.
    your own way,
    your own expression of pure being.

    float in your own spectrums,
    in your own frequencies,
    in your own sunsets.

    return to the temperate climate,
    the original waters of the womb.
    where air & water sit in perfect harmony

    to dissolve us.

    oh sweet dissolution,
    oh blessed Phoenix.
    let us surrender to be born again 
    …and again, and again.

    then rise…
    weightless & buoyant warrior, 
    unburdened by the past.
    that we may take up the true 
    responsibility of our humanity & 
    finally claim our divinity.


    © William Curius 2020