Every long series faces the same temptation in its second month: the maker gets restless and starts changing the woman instead of the world around her. A new hairstyle here, a softened signature there — and the series quietly becomes a crowd. This desk keeps a stricter calendar: seasons change settings, never the specimen.
A season at the seedling-frame desk is a family of sittings that share one light and one setting family — a month of teal evenings, say, or a run of pale morning rooms. Inside the season, her five lines are pasted word for word, untouched. Between seasons, the light, the hour, the wardrobe palette and the room all change; the card does not.
Keep a short season record beside the frame: the changing lines used, the frames kept, the one frame that fronts the season. When a later season disappoints, the record says whether the setting or the specimen was at fault — and it is almost always the setting, which is cheap to change.
Change the weather all you like. Never re-press the specimen. That is the whole art of a long series, and it is mostly patience.