Once, someone I admire told me that we all have trunk characteristics, certain traits that we have carried with us since childhood and upon which we build ourselves. Those traits that are easy to recognize, such as generosity, can sometimes become covered over by adult life, which leaves us with neither the time nor the air to express our true selves, the genuine particles that make us who we are.

I know that one of my trunk characteristics is communication: expressing myself through gestures, hugs, and words. Telling stories.

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   This trip to Northwestern Argentina reconnected me with the desire to speak, to write, to narrate. I have notes from this journey on tickets, napkins (some of them stained with empanada juice), notes on my phone, in a notebook, in a planner, and even on a little sugar packet. I wrote everything down during the long stretches on the bus or at night, when we stopped to rest. I wrote everything down because I was afraid I might forget a single detail. But, incredibly, I have every last semicolon of those vivid days in my memory. I remember everything with such clarity that, every time I think about it, it is as if I were living it all over again.

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   In Los Cielos de NOA, there is a little bit of everything: starry nights, reflections, fears, history, loves and things forgotten, deep friendship, strong flavors, and a cold that hurts. There is sunshine, there are those laughs that leave you gasping for air, and there is silence. And there is even a hilarious story with a famous television presenter!

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   In this book, I desire to turn into letters the voice of this blessed Argentine land.

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