I know: not a true double.
But think about it a minute: how rarely do we ever really see exact repetitions?
Near repetitions are much more common occurrences. And they’re more memorable for seeming more natural. Exact repetitions, when they do appear, often come off seeming forced or strange; manufactured, and thus unnatural.
In truth, I did manufacture this shot a little by sliding the gesture dummy over to stand between the two jars. The dummy usually lives a bit closer to the corner, and generally remains posed in an arms-up stance which reads to me as jubilant.
My wife uses the dummy as a ring stand to keep wedding and engagement rings from collecting grit and grime while she cuts veg or mashes or spreads.
We’ve both played a bit at posing the dummy. I’ve attempted to make him run. My wife has turned him loose on a crazy jig — arms jangling, legs whacked crookedly.
As I alter her pose, she in turn revises my vision; often I notice remnants of my runner’s pose linger in her jangly dancer’s pose: the right-angle bend to one knee; the severe inward crook of one of the dummy’s hands.
This little play between us, this game we make of the dummy-posing: even here we’re sending messages to each other, engaging each other’s imagination. Subtly doubling, tripling, quadrupling the strength of our love.