Honza Baros wasn’t performing. He was sitting on the edge of a velvet sofa, staring directly into the lens with an intensity that felt less like a tease and more like a confession. In his hand, he wasn't holding a prop, but a small, tarnished brass key. He turned it over and over, his thumb tracing the jagged teeth as if memorizing a map.
He looked at the brass key Honza had been holding. Then, he looked at the box of "junk" he’d cleared from the photographer’s desk earlier that morning. At the very bottom, wrapped in a stained silk scarf, sat a small, tarnished brass key. WH - Honza Baros - EROTIC SOLO - 13-08-2012.mp4
Honza Baros hadn't been making a film. He had been filming a ransom note to the future. Honza Baros wasn’t performing