Michele Stine

Next in our Edinburgh Fringe interview series, we speak to Michele Stine regarding her show Always, Sometimes, Maybe, a solo clown show about a janitor so lonely she makes her friends out of trash. Described as “a funny and wild journey into what it means to be alone, and how we find our way back to each other,” the show combines physical comedy and puppetry as Lou unexpectedly finds herself with an audience. Armed with nothing but her rubbish and a lot of imagination, she sets out to discover connection in the most unexpected of places.


How would you describe your show to someone discovering it for the first time at the Fringe?

A whimsical and dark puppet/clown show about a janitor so lonely she makes her friends out of garbage. 

What moment, idea or frustration first sparked this show into existence?

My dad died in 2023 and it changed everything about my life.  It forced me to look at what I was doing, and what I wanted to be doing. Losing someone makes everything around you feel so small and brings a forced perspective into what actually matters. I was stuck in a job that wasn’t fulfilling, trying to squeeze in performing in the off hours and I didn’t want that to be my life. I had this idea for a show for a long time, a clown show about loneliness.  Because so much of my life has been trying to navigate friendships, making friends as an adult, and feeling so utterly alone in the world…even if I was surrounded by people. Then I started doing more research, and in 2023 the US Surgeon General released an 82 page report on the loneliness epidemic and its effect on people.  And I thought, what a ridiculous thing … .so many people are lonely, but if so many people are lonely…couldn’t they be lonely together? And then decrease their loneliness?  The conflict in that was and is so interesting to me and I wanted to lean into that curiosity and the friction of those ideas. 

How has the show evolved from its earliest idea to what audiences will see now?

Oh my gosh, it’s evolved and changed so much over the years.  In its earliest drafts the show had an overhead projector for shadow puppetry, with moments of highly choreographed dances, and there was this wild chaos about it. Then it morphed into a family friendly, very sweet and hope-filled show.  But now, now it’s a more honest look at the desperate measures one will go to to find companionship, friendship, and feel like they belong. With each version of the show it’s gotten more specific and more focused in the story and clear what this character is about and what she wants.

What makes Edinburgh Fringe the right place for this show right now?

Because when we go to the theater, we feel less alone.  We’re in a dark room with strangers watching a story, and it’s in that shared experience that we can feel connected to something greater than ourselves.  And at the Edinburgh Fringe your audience is global; this is a story that everyone, no matter where you’re from, can connect to.

What does bringing this particular show to the Fringe represent for you personally?

As an artist who’s doing all the behind the scenes work as well as the writing and performing there’s SO much that goes into bringing a show to the fringe.  It’s a huge financial investment, the amount of time that goes into all the administrative work, the networking and reach outs, the marketing and social media content you’re expected to create, and then there’s the actual art part.  Rewrites, rehearsals, puppet building, costume creation, sourcing props, getting the sound files in proper order, making sure you have insurance, and music rights. It’s a never ending list of tasks and so swimming through all that and then to finally arrive in Scotland and the privilege of getting to perform this show everyday for a month is a gift.  It’s unlike any other performance because you’re getting the repetition of performing every day, of listening to your audience, of learning what the show actually is and not what you think it is.  It’s getting to meet these incredible artists from around the world and geek out about art and theater and comedy.  It’s getting to see shows that you would never in a million years get to see.

This festival is magic and I feel incredibly lucky that I am able to get to participate.

What has been the most unexpectedly challenging part of getting this show to Edinburgh?

Well if you look at the above answer, and then add a thick layer of grief on top that’s been this year for me.  In December of 2025 I lost a family member unexpectedly and tragically.   A lot of this year has been foggy as I work through life and festival prep.  I constantly ask myself if this is a good idea. Bringing this show, this year to the fringe.  And I don’t know if it is or not.  But I do know that I’m grateful to be able to keep working; that I have a distraction of working on this show and the beautiful friends and family I have surrounding me as I move with this new reality.

If audiences leave the venue holding onto one thing, what do you hope it is?

Take a chance.  Take a chance on someone, on reaching out and connecting.  On giving someone a second chance at a first impression (we don’t all make great first impressions).  Take a chance on yourself.

How do you think performing this show during a Fringe run will shape it?

Oooo. I have no idea and I love that.  I know it will change and I know it’ll be shaped in ways that I can’t imagine and I’m so so excited for it.  This show is interactive so each performance will be different from the previous one because the audience are active members in helping to move the story forward and in helping the protagonist or possibly hindering her. 

Who do you hope this show finds at the Fringe?

I hope this show finds people who are willing to take a risk and take a chance.  I hope it finds individuals who have struggled to connect with people, for whatever reason, and that they’re able to see themselves in this character and this story.   I hope it finds folks who love puppets and the magic they possess. I hope it finds people who outwardly seem cool and outgoing, but inside feel so alone.  I hope it finds people who make shit first impressions but they make spectacular second and third impressions (if given the chance). I hope it finds people who love to play and laugh at our collective humanity. 

Finally, if this show came with a warning label, what would it say?

Warning: Trash rules with trash friends.

Always, Sometimes, Maybe runs at The Edinburgh Festival Fringe from 7th-30th August 2026 (except 17th & 24th).