Kim Hudson

Modern Mixtape Vol. 18: Into the Deep


ModMix18CoverMusic Monday!

Who’s in the need of some new tunes? There have been loads of killer album releases over the past several weeks.

This latest mix contains a few songs from the summer that I never got around to publishing, but mostly new tracks that just came out.

I’m loving Wolf Alice, who I recently got to see in San Diego with my friends, Desi and James. They were awesome live, albeit even younger than I’d imagined. All the same, they have a great current take on 90’s alternative. I’m also loving John Mark Nelson, Small Black, Broken Bells — oh who am I kidding? I like them all! I hope you will too. 

Listen on 8tracks

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Another 100 Miles


It started well over 20 years ago — the fall of ’93 to be precise. I’d get in my car and just drive. I had moved from Fairbanks, Alaska to San Diego, California, and to say I was in a complete state of shock, would be an understatement in the extreme. It was one thousand and eighty degrees different and what felt like a million miles from home. Every chance I got, I’d hit the road like a prisoner out on bail.

I suppose at first it was a defense mechanism. Somehow, the wild and unknown streets of San Diego seemed a safer bet compared to the angsty college freshmen I was holed up with in the Tenochca Dorms at SDSU. I’d drive as though some unknown beacon was beckoning me in any and all directions. I went everywhere. And nowhere. Most of the time I didn’t even know where I was. I just drove. 

Before I knew it, I started venturing further. In ’94, I picked up a car in Seattle and drove it back down the coast. The following year, I did it again, only both directions this time and with my cat, Nico. (Don’t judge.) We listened to Mazzy Star and slept in seedy motels; living on poetry, wine and Camel Lights. On weekends, I’d drive up to Santa Barbara and visit old friends or head to LA (and/or Vegas) with my college buddies for a weekend of revelry. Sometimes, I’d drive to see my sister who was going to school in Phoenix. Eventually, I moved to Las Vegas and continued my nomadic ways, driving all around the valley. Anywhere. Nowhere. Everywhere.

Fast forward to the next century and countless journeys later — I was married and soon after, a mother. I imagine most people slow down a bit after having kids, but I believe I sped up. It quickly became my mission to share the world with my children, as well. In fact, our road trips grew exponentially after they were born. One day they will almost certainly tell people, “Our mom took us on the craziest adventures.” Though they’d gripe and complain at first, we’ve come to a mutual understanding now and I think they love it. They realize I can’t stop; that I don’t want to stop. 

That’s the way it works, you see. Travel is a dangerous drug — with unimaginable highs and equally empty lows. But more importantly, it’s also a love song. There’s a power that comes with being connected to more of the earth and there’s an energy that propels us to keep looking. Some might say it’s an escape. Others may argue it’s about discovery. Perhaps it is both.

I find there’s a space on the road where time doesn’t quite exist in the same manner as real life; an amalgamation of past and present. It doesn’t matter if it’s an epic, “must-see” place or just an obscure, little town in the middle of nowhere. Often I’m struck most by the minutiae; the old-school diner, the perfect font on the storefront’s sign, the lone horse watching from the side of the road, the random people we meet along the way, or finding fragments of what once was.

For the roads that have been so often traveled, I’ve learned to find beauty in looking at the same thing over and over again. The expanses of empty, desert land easily become a moving meditation. I memorize the hills. I know every exit and photo opportunity. I scan the landscape like a hawk, looking for what I’ve missed; that which I haven’t noticed yet. There must be something else there…

But in my dreams, I’d be able to keep going. I’d simply take off and never come back. There’s so much more for me to see! Some might say I must be running from something, but I reckon this constant need to travel is more like a puzzle. I’m collecting pieces and pictures, understanding the lay of the land, in both a physical and abstract manner. If life is about the journey and the story is in the details, then perhaps the road is just a map where we find the world within ourselves. 


Crete: Seitan Limania


If you are dreaming of the bluest water and the most unusual beaches, then look no further. Crete is the place for you!


As we flew south from Santorini, the first thing we noticed were patches of stunning, turquoise sea surrounding the island of Crete. One of my all-time favorite beaches was Seitan Limania (aka Stephanou Beach). I’d read about it while researching for our trip and from what I could tell, it was a local secret; slightly off the beaten track and required a hike-in. Frankly, it looked too good to be true in photos. I simply had to see it for myself! 


Although it seemed complicated to find, it wasn’t really. We followed the directions from this site and they were spot on. My advice is to head towards the Chania Airport, continue past it to the village of Chordaki, then follow the road until you start seeing signs for “the port.” Eventually you’ll arrive at the top of a hill and from there you can see the inlet. After a couple of serious switchbacks, voila! You are at Satan’s Beach.

HA! Almost.


When I got there, no one else was around and it was kind of hard to tell where the path lead to the beach. I decided to head to the canyon to the left of the parking lot (see above) and hike down that way. WRONG. It got me there, but was much crazier than the actual trail, which is on the right hand side of the parking. Whichever way you take, it’s steep but not especially challenging. Here’s the proper trail…



Although I went on my own, I wish I had brought the children. They would’ve loved it! There were other kids there and lots of people were climbing up and jumping off of the cliffs.



The more I travel, the more I seek out those one-off, different places and this beach was no exception! It felt so exotic and special. It is a must-see on Crete! I will never forget it. 


Different but the Same




Santorini / Part 1


The first travel magazine I remember reading was when I was around 15 years old. Long before I’d dreamed of being a photographer, the cover caught my eye and the photos inside were seared into my memory for life. They were of Santorini; purple-tinged images of quaint, white cave houses and tiny alleyways perched on a cliffside. I thought, “I must go here one day.

A decade later, I started traveling to Europe, but by then, other locations had jumped in the queue of “Places to go” and Santorini was knocked back several spots. The funny thing about life is that experience sort of changes everything. By the time I finally made it to Greece, I’d already been to one of the most beautiful places on earth the year before… so it had to compete with Positano and the Amalfi coast, which is next to impossible in my book! Is this to say Santorini isn’t charming and lovely? Not at all. It is absolutely photogenic… in places.

We rented a cave house in the village of Oia and after touring the entire island, I can’t imagine staying anywhere else. Oia is the depiction of Santorini that everyone knows and loves. Sadly, it’s not the most accurate representation of the rest of the island. Every afternoon and evening, the appeal wore off as cruise ships let loose countless groups of obnoxious tourists with cameras, numbered signs and selfie-sticks. Hundreds of people flooded and congregated the quaint alleyways vying for the best photos until the sun went down. It made me embarrassed to be seen with a camera.

I still managed to find my repose. Thanks to jet lag and sick children, I was awake more than asleep. While everyone else slept, I was up early, coffee in hand, climbing to the terrace above to watch the sun rise over the sea and slowly illuminate the houses on the hillside. After coffee, I ran and climbed the myriad of dodgy steps and trails that laced along the cliff through the old pedestrian houses. The only other living things I came in contact with were stray dogs and cats, as most tourists stayed on the main paths above. I found peace in these winding passageways throughout the day and they will forever be my favorite part of Santorini. Although the rest of the island wasn’t quite what I expected, I was able to experience that magazine cover in person — in the wee hours of the morn, lavender-lit and tranquil, just as I’d imagined it would be.
















Repertoire: Classic Marinara


180360_MarinaraWhen I first started cooking, nearly everything I made was Italian. I had worked in a family-run Italian restaurant for many years and had tried (unsuccessfully) to replicate their marinara at home. To me, it was the quintessential red sauce, but like everything else food-related, that’s all a matter of personal taste.

There are many disagreements on which ingredients should or should not be included in a true marinara sauce. I’ve tried several over the years but keep coming back to two particular sauces; one slow and one fast (I’ll share this recipe soon). They are both staples in our house and I couldn’t pick a favorite between them if I had to. 

I’ve been making this slow-cooked marinara almost every month for well over 10 years. It’s not the same as the one at my old restaurant but it certainly evokes a classic Italian Nonna’s recipe. This one is a chunkier version, with a proper soffritto, and a depth that can only be achieved by simmering on the stove for at least 5 hours. 

I prefer to make a huge pot so that any extra can be frozen or jarred. It’s such a great time saver on busy nights!






Classic Marinara
  1. 3 large onions or 6 small onions
  2. 1 whole garlic bulb
  3. 6 carrots (peeled)
  4. 6 stalks of celery
  5. 1 1/2 cups of extra-virgin olive oil
  6. 6 - 28oz cans of crushed tomatoes
  7. 6 bay leaves
  8. Salt and Pepper
  9. Butter (optional)
  1. Chop onion to a small dice and mince garlic finely. Heat oil briefly in a large, heavy bottomed pot. Add onion and garlic, season with salt and pepper and sauté until nearly translucent. In the meantime, chop carrots and celery (small dice) and add to pot. Season with salt and pepper again then sauté until the carrots and celery have softened (knife easily slides through). Add canned tomatoes and bay leaves. Stir sauce really well. Bring to a soft boil then reduce heat to a simmer. Simmer uncovered for 5 hours or more. Stir regularly. Sauce should thicken and reduce a bit. Cool, then remove bay leaves before using or storing.
  1. Optional: Once the sauce is finished, you can add up to 6 TBL of butter to round out the flavors.
Adapted from Giada De Laurentiis
Adapted from Giada De Laurentiis

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