Try turning on the radio and finding a song that isn’t about love: “My Love,” “Love at First Sight,” “Love Story,” “Love Bliss,” “Heartbreak.” On the airwaves, the playlist of love is endless. Maybe the reason is that when it captures us, there’s nothing quite like that blissful feeling — and nothing quite as painful as when it disappears.

In the work Endless, the end of love is dissected. When a relationship ends and two people are no longer a “we.” The end of love, and everything that comes with it: collisions and denial, grief and desperate attempts at reconciliation – “what if we had done things differently?” – memories and the bittersweet longing for lost chances. What are the ends of love? Does it disappear entirely, or is it like any other energy that simply transforms? Energy shifts place, but does it ever stop?
There is beauty in this sad and harrowing side of love. In the games we play, the battles we fight, in the poetic silence of unspoken words.

As I’ve always said: what is there not to love?

Alan Lucien Øyen