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If you were to ask the then 7 yr old La Jeder where she was from, you would have gotten a very thoughtful and furrowed brow as she tried to put her heart into words. A very timid and serious voice would say, “Well, this part of me (using her finger to draw a line exactly down her middle & pointing to her left side--which is all scarred up from falling off bikes, climbing trees, and playing sports)….this part of me is from Colombia (the place she had gotten all said scars). And this part of me (pointing to her right unblemished side) is from America.” She hasn’t been able to put it better since that age. The scars still remain as do the stories, happy childhood and coming of age memories and above all the language and heart beat of that culture.
Passionate for story-telling through writing from an early age, it became a side job after college. She began co-writing with Latin music’s newest and brightest songwriters and pitching songs to artists. After working behind the music scene, she felt called to take the biggest and blindest step of faith to date. That 10 hour drive from Miami to Austin was all the confirmation she needed to realize this was the beginning of pursuing both life and music differently. Upon her arrival, she took the stage at her first open mic and opened both her heart and voice up to the public with her own songs. Talk about scary for a gal who preferred being in the background singing harmonies to someone else’s songs. What started as a shaky attempt to be obedient with her gifts, led to her debut album “Rusty Words” which combined songs in English and Spanish (all written from experiences that occurred in the language they were written). “Rusty Words” speaks to years of living in 4 different countries, places/homes she has left, and loved ones she has seen walk away.
She has since experienced a different season in her life. In Texas she encountered another soul that has been a major part of changing her life and her approach to music. So…what the heck…she married him. And they lived happily…in a 26 ft old motorhome named Olga. Did you hear that, y’all? 26ft shared with a Viking of a man (you think I’m being dramatic…his legs are the size of small tree trunks...I didn’t say what kind of tree). 26ft of pure cozy home on wheels stuffed to the brim with instruments, jam, pickles, and coffee to share with those they come across in the next year.
The Viking. Now I know you are picturing a towering, tough, burly and hairy man ready to pillage your town. You are mostly correct. But this is a gentle, kind-hearted Viking. The kind that wears his heart on his sleeve. The kind that plays a bass then learns the banjo because of the earthiness and heart it brings to music. This Viking hailed from Minnesota to Texas as a teen and embraced both “ya’ll” and Taco Cabana as readily as he embraces new faces (literally embraces—he’s a hugger, ya’ll). If he doesn’t have an instrument in hand, he is serving perfectly crafted espresso drinks, fixing up bicycles, running marathons, and doting on the needy ol’ motorhome that will house them during this year spent on the roads of America.