It seemed like not much a change, opening his eyes one moment and seeing he stood before a field of blues, greens, and purples. Some paintings came from where he was, so the familiarity was not surprising. In only a few seconds, though, his gaze was fixated on the frame and not the work of art it held. Climbing sparks of yellow and orange snapped and curled up the edges, and it was amusing to him to watch them unfurl into the air.
Behind him moved the sun, the nymph who had asked him here, the one who had found his tiger, the one dressed in armour of glittering scales. Queens and dark ones, shadows and warriors and all the things people wish to be. Everything flickering in and out, one world seeping into another.
Not speaking to anyone in particular, what Morpheus did say as he moved slowly through the rooms had most people glancing quickly at him and then walking away to view another piece.