Live Lines is a bi-weekly livestream project by M.V. Baks, where drawing becomes a moment of presence.
Each session begins with a blind draw from the mysterious Random Box, revealing a word or object that becomes the inspiration for a new sketch — completely unprepared, completely live.
In a quiet and focused setting, the drawing unfolds on paper while viewers watch, ask questions, and sometimes draw along. It’s not about perfection, but about process: about letting the hand move before the mind knows where it’s going.
With minimal setup and no edits, Live Lines invites you into the raw, poetic core of creation. Whether you’re watching in real time or catching up later, you’re welcome — through the chat, through community voting, or simply by being present.
New episodes stream every two weeks on
Born from a single word, this drawing unfolded live — guided only by the breath between thought and paper.
Drawn during Live Lines #1. Words pulled in order:
Film, Pencil, Hat, Tail, Flower, Chain.
In this surreal drawing, organic forms merge into a dreamlike mechanism of perception and transformation. A mushroom-like structure connects a funnel to a dripping vessel, while a vivid pink loop — evoking an abstract sense organ — encircles the composition. Soft textures and fluid lines invite curiosity, as the hidden logic of the image slowly reveals itself.
A quiet tribute in shades of graphite. This still life brings together a teapot, a towering container marked “M.V.”, and a cluster of delicate hexagonal cells — like fading thoughts crystallized. With soft shadows and reserved detail, the piece evokes the persistence of memory: ordinary objects as silent keepers of presence and absence.
Two worn canisters stand side by side. One marked “M.V.”, the other faintly inscribed with “BAKS”. A teapot leans into their presence, its surface punctured with quiet code. Below, hexagonal traces scatter like memories — now joined by unfamiliar seeds, star-shaped whispers, and the curve of something roasted.
Where the previous drawing remembered, this one begins to speak. Of rituals shared. Of warmth brewing. Of names emerging not as identity, but as scent. And still — not everything is revealed.
The ritual deepens. What began with a teapot and initials has now unfolded into a layered offering: spices, seeds, and steam rising from paired canisters marked “M.V.” and “BAKS”. Cardamom joins the chorus, a cactus leans in like an unexpected guest, and something sweet begins to form on the edge — a slice of memory, half-drawn but already rich.
What is shared here can’t be brewed or baked alone. This is not just about tea or coffee. It’s about presence. About names repeated in the quiet. About flavor as a form of intimacy. And about the comfort of what remains unfinished.