Whichever way this FB issue resolves,  (if you read my blog, you know), my social media page will now be less “personal” and more my Author/Artist page….I have dearly loved posting animal stories of happiness, I have felt deeply hurt over animal stories of suffering.
Intuitives often close themselves to protect…..it took many years to open a life and work to strangers.
Most of those strangers have become friends….some not.
I will post to let you know of links to work, upcoming events, (though not many book signings anymore) and new books available still on my social media page, but more so on my personal websites and blogs.
I hope old friends will remain, I hope new friends will learn of my books, art, and intuitive work.

May 2020 be one of new and better paths ahead for all who follow me, on whichever social media I can be found.

You can find me at http://www.shirlknobloch.com





Love and Light,

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“Pictures to Paint, Words to Write”


This week has been a powerful lesson in how little control we have on what we think we possess on social media.   We call pages our “own”…….chat rooms “private”………But we are like little ants building our social networks and stashing away pictures, files, and stories, instead of seeds.

The Australian wildfires affected my heart deeply.   I set about to do a series of paintings and donate 100% of all the monies collected to WIRES,  NSW, Australia, rescue organization.

I sold 11 prints……all monies sent.   But, then I tried to access my art site on Facebook.   Facebook has blocked my art site; it has blocked it from me sharing my own paintings from the Gallery to my Facebook page.  It has blocked it from any Facebook member sharing it on his or her site, or in private chat messages.

I did not do this for monetary gain…….yet someone chose to single me out…..whether a person or a computer algorithm, I do not know.   That information is withheld.   I had received some nasty messages from people saying all the news of Australia I had been posting was “offensive” to them.   How is seeing a burned koala pleading for a drink of water offensive?……….  So the jury is out on how my blocking process was initiated.

I am an artist and author.   My soul needs to paint and write as my lungs need to take in air.   There is a need to share what I create in this world, which now has been blocked as a shoe squishes a busy ant.

Quite ironically, the day of this occurrence, I sat and painted this……Perhaps a foretelling of walking away………oscar painting

For those who follow this blog………you can view all my paintings at https://shirlknoblochwillowfineartprintsandphotography.zenfolio.com/

You can read about my life and books at http://www.shirlknobloch.com

And for those who befriend me on Facebook, perhaps you can also share this blog.

I will paint, I will write……and we, as an ant community, must help each other’s voice be heard in the dark tunnels of life.



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“The Beating Heart”

This New Year can be a time of change…..so many are feeling the pain, becoming aware that all life, whether in the home as a pet, or in the bush of Australia, FEEL.

They run to exhaustion from death…….they run to humans for help……….they are running out of time on our earth.

Cruelty toward animals is escalating……..

Perhaps all the empathy felt by so many now towards species running for their lives will tip the scales back to balance.

The earth has undergone changes through the milleniums……..land masses change, species  die and make room for new species…….

But never before, has the influence of man’s hand and heart had such an impact on these changes.

The hand and heart can be benevolent, or it can be cruel and selfish.

Only time will tell which way the scale will tip………….

The heartbeat of the earth is one …….. in some, it beats faster, in some it slows during hibernation…..in some, it beats to exhaustion from running from the flames.

If we listen with our own heart…….the sound is the same.

If we don’t listen………far too many of those heartbeats will end………perhaps all.


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“A Rivalry of Giving”

I remember as a kid, the New Year bulletin at church would publish the names of those who gave the most to the Christmas basket.   It became quite a status symbol…your name in the bulletin, alongside the generous amount you donated.

Last week, I got an email from my grandson’s elementary school.    They always have a sale going on…. this time, on the right side of the page, was a scroll bar with the names of relatives and how many items they purchased.

Now, with this horrendous, apocalyptic disaster in Australia……we are seeing the names of the privileged and the sums of their donations………

Some social media posts are quibbling over who gave enough and who should have given more………

I think this stops the average human from giving……Each dollar adds up; seeing some comment about 500,000 as compared to 1,000,000 is disheartening.

Has the world become one large church bulletin……announcing who gave most.

My thoughts on who gave most……..

The firefighters………

The teens who gathered up scores of koalas and placed them in their cars…….

The shirtless woman who valiantly tried to save the life of a badly injured koala.

The wildlife rehabbers who are tirelessly trying to salvage what is left of a species.

And mostly, those who gave their lives………..

Me, I am knitting a joey pouch…..hopefully, it will embrace a precious little orphaned baby marsupial.

Intentions and prayer are priceless……a kid collecting door to door is of no less value.

Our world social media bulletin needs to realize that each drop of water creates our oceans…..each blade of grass creates our bushlands…..each sapling creates our forests.

We don’t need a newspaper report or scroll bar to tell us who gave what; we just need a global consciousness to give…….



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“Another New Year”

I spent the weekend with my eight year old grandson in Gettysburg.   We did the “touristy” things and went to one of his favorite destinations, Gettysburg Library.   He loves libraries, he loves books; I hope his bibliophile tastes only grow with time.

At the library entrance is a block of stone incribed……Time Capsule, buried I believe it said 1981…..to be opened in 2026.

My grandson excitedly read the words and said,  Look Grandma, they are going to open it in 2026, that is not so far away.   

Oh, to be eight again……twenty six years is not so far away for him, but for me………

Well, unless I emigrate to one of those yogurt eating places on the plains of Asia where the inhabitants live past 100……2026 seems very far away for me…..

One year ending……….another beginning………

New lifetimes beginning…….as those who have lived and seen much to fill many time capsules are in the winters of their years.

Grandmas have to squeeze time capsules full of life into those winters……..so little grandsons remember all the springs, summers, and autumns of their moments together.

Winter comes far too soon, as his innocent mind and heart will come to know with time.

Instead of those soon forgotten resolution lists…….why not imagine your own unique time capsule.   Fill it will wishes and dreams for 2020 and tuck it away inside your heart, promising to see some come to fruition.  One day, those you love might open it within their own heart……and remember.


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“Gettysburg Ghosts”

My farmhouse stands on Hallowed ground…..The Confederate Cavalry used these grounds as headquarters during the Battle of Gettysburg.

Now, a century+ later, strange things still occur at my farm.   Things you don’t notice immediately, little changes, turns of statues, empty vases now filled with water, movements of objects, mischievous antics that must pass the scores of time lost souls endure.

I got a couple of “holiday hellos” this past weekend from the spirits who wander my home…..well, their home too.  🙂

I had guests over so there is verification that I was totally surprised to find these changes had taken place.

The first one occurred at my dining room table.   I have Angels holding small glass candle holders on the table.   I was at the house for hours until I realized one of the Angels had turned, facing a different direction from how I had arranged her a couple of weeks before.   I know this, because I took photos of her two weeks ago when I placed her on my table for the Christmas.   I saw she had “moved”…..thought it odd, but just placed her back.    Then,  when my guests and I were chatting at the table, I looked over in complete confusion and saw that her little glass bowl had somehow moved and been placed inside my silver bird on the table, with a pinecone inside it.

Now the pinecone is an important twist…….two weeks ago, I walked my property and collected a big basket of pine cones and placed them in the front parlor.   When we got there this Saturday, one of the pinecones was out of the basket and in the middle of the floor.   Mice, I thought.   We have those visitors too….it’s a farmhouse, with lots of holes for cold feet to patter inside to warm themselves.   But a little pine cone now sat in the candle holder…… the cherry on the cupcake, as they say.   The last laugh from the spirit world……:-)  I could believe a mouse carried a pine cone out of a basket, but to carefully lift a tiny glass bowl and then expertly place it inside another object is a bit of a stretch for mouse paws…..  ❤

Earlier that day, seated at my kitchen table, I happened to glance over to my hutch, where a gingerbread garland has hung for many, many years.

The gingerbread garland was still hanging,  just not the way it should be…….I will let the pictures speak for themselves……..

It is in these messages…..not to scare, but just to send a sort of Christmas card from the other side……Hi, I’m here, Merry Christmas…….that make my home on Hallowed grounds unique.

Angel no dish

Angel no dish 2Angel in bird dish

Back in place

gingerbread garlandgingerbread men runMerry Christmas and Happy New Year Blessings and may only friendly spirits cross your path.


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“Why We Started to Fear this Day”

Indigo CatFriday, the 13th is most fascinating, for it combines the terrors of two evils into one terrifying day for some.
The fear of the number 13……it has a name, but spelling it would take up a few lines of this blog, so I shall pass on that attempt.
Add the fear of Friday, so many cultures fear this day of the week; combine the two, and you have a reason for some not to want to get out of bed today.  The number thirteen literally could mean bread of life for bakers in 13th Century England.

Bakers could be penalized, fined, or even lose one of their kneading hands if they were found to sell “short”……
So bakers, worried that one loaf might burn, might be unsellable in the dozen….would bake an extra loaf…..the 13th…..the baker’s dozen.
This insured that the weight of the wheat in the loaves would not come up short….so thirteen was their assurance of a prosperous, happy life.
Twelve was always revered as a Blessed number, the 12 Apostles, the 12 Tribes of Israel, the 12 signs of the Zodiac, the 12 Gods on Mt. Olympus…..you get my drift.
But add a number to that, and it throws the energy of Blessing into imbalance, unrest, fear……
Friday was thought to be an ominous day ever since the time of the Canterbury Tales. Don’t undertake a journey on Friday….
Investors think upon it with dread………Black Friday.
A day for Crucifixion.
Friday, itself, is named for Frigga, a Norse Goddess. She was banished to a mountain, and held meetings to plot malevolence with a coven of eleven witches and the devil……you guessed right…….Thirteen.
Guess what day of the week these meetings took place…….
For centuries, people in this culture regarded Friday as the Witch Sabbath.
How about you……
Does a number and name of a day send chills up your spine…..just keep your eyes out for ladders today….walk around them……… :-)


Still time to pick up one of my titles for Christmas…….

Visit my author page at Amazon……thanks and Happy Holidays   ♥

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