Every working creator accumulates the same archaeology: finals mixed with drafts, the same set in three folders under three names, a hero frame whose full-size version nobody can locate. Scattered work still exists, but it cannot be sold, routed or built on. A catalogue is what you get after one deliberate collecting pass — and the pass is mostly clerical.
Step one: inventory before organising
List what actually exists before moving anything: every set, its frames, which versions are final, and where each piece is currently published. The inventory is where the surprises live — the set you thought had twelve frames has nine, the upscale you paid for was of the draft, two folders are duplicates. Fix the list first; folders second.
Step two: one naming rule
Names are the catalogue’s index. Pick a pattern that encodes the useful facts — character, set, sequence, version — such as character_set_03_final, and rename without sentimentality. The test of a name is whether a stranger could find the delivery version of a specific frame in under a minute. If they could not, the name is decoration.
Step three: group by what buyers browse
- By character for series work — a returning character is a shelf of her own.
- By set for store work — the pack is the unit that gets bought, reviewed and sequel’d.
- By format for routing — stills, clips and upscales of the same set stay linked, so a teaser can always find its full version.
Step four: retire on purpose
A catalogue includes a decision about what is no longer offered. Drafts, superseded versions and off-anchor experiments move to an archive folder — kept, but out of the working stack. Retiring is what makes the remaining collection legible: when everything is current, nothing is. Collect once, keep the rules for a month, and the next pass takes an afternoon instead of a week.