Every time that I come back home from a journey or a holiday, I always find some flags among the photographs that I’ve taken. I am particularly fascinated by those flags moved by the wind, where the geometries of the coloured tissues overlap on the spirals of folds and on the shadows generated by the movement. It’s even better if the flag is old, maybe a bit ripped, marked by the time that they spent to wave, maybe a little faded or dirty from the dusty air they crossed.