http://vanderbiltrepublic.com has the rest.

Once this is over, next Thursday, we'll resume our regularly scheduled Masters Pitch Book creation blog. I'm dying to sink my teeth into making that thing.

—g.

It is a unique honor to be able to say that I have authored the first comprehensive portrait library of Cambodia’s cultural icons. But the reality of that, and the experiences connected with it, feel like a mirage on the horizon behind me. Just about a year ago right now, we boarded a plane headed west, and my mind’s been wandering back to those moments, lately.

For Matthew, Dwayne, Jonathan and I, it was definitely a major experience, and not just for the novelty of the fundraising process. We were setting out to do work on a level beyond any other, and on our own terms. But as work itself, in the daily pieces of the experience, it wasn’t without precedent for us four. We’d all previously worked on assignment abroad, in leading roles.

Mauricio had not. He’s a skilled, experienced photographer and assistant, but he had never been asked to work on an international assignment before. And, in fact, he’d never left America since emigrating from Colombia as a small boy.

Our flight to Korea departed at midnight on a Sunday. Again: major as this shoot was in over-arching terms, in the moment all it boiled down to was a really crappy departure time. Dwayne, Matthew and I said goodbye to our families back at home. Jonathan was driven in by his wife, who dropped him off curbside.

Mauricio, however, had his entire family at JFK to send him off, his beautiful wife and young baby son included. The bitter cold, late hour, and impossible parking was absolutely no deterrent to them. This moment was the one they’d come to America for, and they were all aglow with profound appreciation of the fact.

It was beautiful. It made me proud to know him, and confirmed that he was the right man for the job. That the following six weeks were as successful as they were is in large part due to him.

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All of my days are devoted to taking the art we created to the far-off place that we’ve aimed it at. It's a constantly-shifting territory of unknowns, and it’s sometimes hard to pick the way forward. For Photographic Monuments to become reality, the Vanderbilt Republic needs to be strong, and self-sustaining. Balancing the demands of both objectives, and keeping both on track, is my job.

Every person that handles a Mechanical is brought in to why these individuals are relevant, and as they come to terms with the structure of the object that's communicating the content (either as book-sculpture or wall-sculpture), an awareness of the creative agency that invented the object dawns. I love the Mechanical for this; it does so much at once.

“Art From the Heart” is another product of ours that does the same. Our second edition is coming up, and we’re all super-excited about it (the first one was tied in to “Masters”). I’ve redefined the event’s purpose, separating it from any fundraising agendas. It’s a party that charges just enough money to pay for itself. And what it makes happen is pretty amazing, frankly.

We put out an open call to photographers worldwide to submit signed, unframed prints for consideration by our curator, Leslie Dela Vega. For the most part, our broadcast signal targets the top tiers of working creatives, but there’s a substantial enthusiast class that responds. We mount the work in dynamic spaces (DRIVEIN24, this time), and offer any one print to tag-holding attendees, first come, first served.

See the event’s site for the rest of the details, some image samples, and a partial list of artists involved. The energy at the show is absolutely incredible, with the artists and art collectors meeting, talking about art, and everybody loving every second of it. The value we offer our guests is like none I’ve ever seen. Check out this quick teaser to see what I mean.

Quite a few of you guys are in New York. If you're in town mid-December, consider reserving a tag now—they’ve been moving pretty rapidly, and this launched just yesterday. I’m lining up a few installations for the show that you guys, in particular, might enjoy, and beyond that I’d love to simply thank you in person.

—g.

For your support, trust, and patience: thank you, thank you, THANK YOU.

—g.

(wipes brow)

You've waited a while for your DIY Mechanical. For some, the delay crates impatience, and a desire to just make the damn thing when it finally arrives. If that's you, then check out the no-frills version of the tutorial video, online now.

For those that experienced the pause as a multiplier of anticipation, the director's cut may be the better choice. It runs almost twice as long, but continues the thread of emotion that animated the original “Mechanical” pitch video (which you're already quite familiar with).

No matter which version you choose to use: we're dying to see what you make. Visit vanderbiltrepublic.org/diy to see how other DIY kits come out, and to include yours in the mix.

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With two editions down, we've mailed Mechanicals to addresses world-wide. Canada, Lithuania, Australia, Northern Ireland, Great Britain, Denmark and The Czech Republic: not bad. The establishment of a truly new, truly international, Cambodian iconography is our stated goal. If we closed the doors to the Republic today and walked away forever, the progress we've made towards realizing that agenda is very, very real.

Each of the 46 packages mailed to this point hold 40 powerful images of Cambodians and Cambodian culture, partnered with carefully-chosen text elements designed to draw the viewer's imagination into the experience. All are encased in an evocative, always-new structure.

It's a good thing, but there always needs to be more. More is coming. But sometimes—just for a moment—it does feel good to look around at the view from where we're at. It may not be the top of the mountain, or even close to the peak, but it is a hell of a view.

—g.