ABSTRACT
Framing is all around us. Take a look around the space you are reading in right now. Some framing may seem quite obvious . . . the door frame, the window frame, the frame around a painting, all segregating one type of space from another-the hallway from the study, the outside from the inside, the depicted world from the real world, respectively. Some framing might be somewhat noticeable-the carpet square on a wooden floor, the difference in colour of two walls, or a change in level of the base plane-all demarcating different areas of the same enclosed space. But there is other framing that might not be so obvious: the space between objects, or interspaces, as Arnheim (1977) calls them. Some of the objects in your space might be so close to each other that there is no doubt that they belong together as a visual unit of information-perhaps your stapler, paper clips and hole puncher. Other objects may be further apart, making the interspace looser, yet they clearly seem connected in some way-consider your laptop and printer, while the space between some objects might be so loose because the objects are so far apart that any connection between them may not be apparent-those discarded, old computers in one corner and the empty shoe boxes in another.
