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James holin

Born in 1972, James Holin grew up in Paris, not far from rue Saint-Denis. The prostitutes laughed at him while he went to the Royal Palace to make sand pies in front of the Council of State. After a few humanities in an upscale establishment on the Left Bank, he left the family cocoon to work in the provinces, in Paris and abroad, in the cold and in the heat. He watches gangster films from the 70s, improvises, listens to Gérard Manset, reads Balzac, runs, drinks whiskey, eats everything, tries to be courteous, loves to sleep and spend his vacations in lost lands.

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