Height is wasted if everything seen from it is kept. The keeper rule at this desk is blunt: generate generously, cull from the tower, and publish only what earns it. A series is remembered by its weakest public frame, so the gallery is guarded harder than the generator.
The cull runs against the tower card, in the open, in two passes. First pass, identity: the five card lines, read plainly; any failure is out, however beautiful. Second pass, craft and purpose: hands, edges, light — and a named job for the frame to do. Frames that survive both passes are keepers, and only keepers earn repairs, swaps and upscales, in that order.
Publishing is a separate decision made after finishing, never during the excitement of a good sitting. Everything rests private by default; a keeper goes public deliberately, from its maker’s account, and can return to private at any moment.
Keep the rule and the public work stays as strong as the private work. Break it once, and the gallery starts telling a lesser story than the studio actually makes.