Alright – so today we’ve got the honor of introducing you to Rielynn Lunde. We think you’ll enjoy our conversation, we’ve shared it below.

Rielynn, looking forward to hearing all of your stories today. We’d love to go back in time and hear the story of how you came up with the name of your brand?

When I was brainstorming names for my photography business, I knew I wanted something that truly reflected *me*—not just what I do, but how I see the world. My name is Rielynn, but most people call me “Rie.” I’ve always loved that nickname—it’s simple, personal, and unique. I wanted my business name to feel the same way.

I also knew I didn’t want to go the traditional route, like “Rielynn’s Photography” or something overly formal. That just didn’t feel right for the kind of work I do or the way I connect with people. My photography—especially working with tintypes and intimate portraiture—is all about perspective, emotion, and capturing something real and timeless.

That’s how “Eye of Rie” was born. It’s a little play on words: a nod to my artistic eye, how I view the world through my lens, and also a way of putting a piece of myself into every image. It’s personal, creative, and just different enough to feel like home.

As always, we appreciate you sharing your insights and we’ve got a few more questions for you, but before we get to all of that can you take a minute to introduce yourself and give our readers some of your back background and context?

Hey there, I’m Rielynn—but most people call me Rie. I’m the photographer, artist, and slightly obsessive collector of antique lenses behind *Eye of Rie*. If you’ve never heard of tintype photography before, buckle up—because we’re about to time-travel to the 1800s (minus the cholera).

My journey into photography didn’t start with a fancy camera or a dream of going viral. It started with a deep love for art, storytelling, and human connection—and, honestly, a craving for something *real* in a world full of filters and fast-paced everything. When I discovered tintype photography, it was like falling through a vintage rabbit hole. The process is slow, messy, and incredibly rewarding. It’s equal parts science experiment and spiritual experience—and yes, it requires a portable darkroom and a lot of patience. But there’s something magical about watching a one-of-a-kind image appear on a metal plate right before your eyes. It’s like conjuring ghosts—beautiful, soulful ghosts.

At Eye of Rie, I specialize in tintype portrait sessions that capture people in their most raw and timeless form. Whether it’s a couple, a family, a bride and groom, or someone just wanting to feel seen—I’m here for all of it. I also create tintype jewelry: wearable art that holds memory and emotion in the most tangible, handcrafted way.

I bring this experience to my studio, local events, pop-up markets, and sometimes random fields in the middle of nowhere (shoutout to my traveling darkroom). I like to keep things laid back, a little quirky, and deeply intentional. You won’t find me rushing through a session or saying “say cheese.” We’ll take our time. We’ll laugh. We’ll probably geek out over old things. And in the end, you’ll walk away with something completely unique—a little piece of history with your face on it.

What sets me apart? It’s the process, the personal touch, and the genuine connection I make with every person I photograph. I don’t just point a camera and click. I see you. I listen. I create something with you, not just of you. And I do it with a mix of artistry, intuition, and just enough weirdness to keep things interesting.

What am I most proud of? Definitely the reactions I get when someone sees their tintype for the first time—tears, laughter, goosebumps. That moment never gets old. I’m proud that I’ve built a business that’s meaningful, creative, and a little off the beaten path—just like me.

So if you’re looking for something beyond the ordinary—something nostalgic, artistic, and full of soul—you’ve come to the right place. It’s quirky, magical, classy and mysterious all at the same time!

We’d love to hear the story of how you turned a side-hustle into a something much bigger.

People often ask me how I got into tintype photography—and honestly, it still feels surreal to say it’s what I do full-time. It started out as nothing more than curiosity and awe. I had stumbled across the work of Robb Kendrick, a National Geographic photographer whose tintype portraits of cowboys and ranch life absolutely stopped me in my tracks. His images were haunting, raw, and otherworldly—like little windows into another time. I was *literally* drooling. I had no idea what I was even looking at, but I knew I was captivated.

At the time, I didn’t really know what a tintype was, let alone how to make one. I dove into research, reading everything I could find about the process—collodion, silver nitrate, ether (yes, ether!), and all the mysterious steps in between. But let’s be honest: you can only get so far by reading. I needed to *see* it. To *touch* it. To get my hands messy and actually *do* it.

That’s when I found a one-day workshop in Portland, led by the incredible Ray Bidegain. I had no idea that class would change the entire trajectory of my life. We mixed chemicals, poured plates, set up lights, and watched images slowly emerge from metal like ghostly apparitions. It was pure magic. I was hooked.

After that, I knew I had to pursue it—but tintype photography isn’t exactly plug-and-play. It took me over a year to gather the equipment I needed just to get started. I scoured books, studied antique recipes, and slowly built up the knowledge (and nerve) to try making plates on my own. The learning curve was steep, the chemicals were fickle, and the process was unforgiving—but somehow, all of that made it even more meaningful.

In the early days, I worked out of my garage, which had all the charm of a meat locker and none of the climate control. My laundry room became my darkroom—where, yes, many outfits met an untimely end due to silver nitrate stains (RIP to every pair of black leggings I owned). It was also right around the time Covid hit, which meant long stretches of isolation, and stop-and-start progress. But the fire never left.

Eventually, I craved more. More people. More faces. More stories to preserve in metal and light. I roped in my godfather, Cecil, as my test subject and creative partner. We had the time of our lives experimenting—failing, laughing, and celebrating the smallest wins. My first image was wildly overexposed, but it *worked*. Something *showed up*. And that was all I needed to keep going.

I took pages and pages of notes. I practiced again and again. Tintype is not a medium for perfectionists or quitters. It demands patience, resilience, and a whole lot of humility. But every plate felt like progress, and every plate taught me something.

Eventually, I found a small rental space and took a massive leap: I renovated it into a working tintype studio. It was terrifying and exhilarating—an actual dream starting to take form. From there, *Eye of Rie* was truly born. Since then, I’ve moved into a larger space in a historic building that once housed a diamond cutting school. The ceilings are tall, the floors are beautifully unfinished, and the entire space feels like it was meant for this process.

In the beginning, I had to educate every single person who walked in. Most people had never even heard of a tintype, let alone seen one made. But once they experienced it—the slow process, the intimacy, the physical plate they got to take home—they were hooked. And they told their friends. And their families. Slowly but surely, it grew.

Now, I get to share this incredible, old-world art form with people from all walks of life. I offer tintype portraits, heirloom jewelry, pop-up events, and full studio sessions. Each session is personal. Each image is one-of-a-kind. And each person who steps in front of my lens becomes part of this ongoing adventure that started with one jaw-dropping cowboy photo and a whole lot of determination.

I’m still learning. Still growing. Still covered in silver nitrate half the time. But I wouldn’t change a thing. This isn’t just my career—it’s my calling. And I know this adventure is far from over.

What do you think helped you build your reputation within your market?

In a niche as unique and historic as tintype photography, your reputation is everything—it’s built one experience, one portrait, one heartfelt connection at a time. For me, the foundation of that reputation has always been about being genuine. I show up as myself every single day—warm, honest, and fully invested in the people I work with.

I believe that excellence isn’t just in the final product—it’s in every step of the process. It’s in how I pour the plates, how I handle the chemistry, how I prepare the space, and—most importantly—how I treat my clients. I’m not interested in rushing people through some quick “vintage-style” experience. I want them to feel seen. Valued. Cared for. When someone walks into my studio, I want them to leave not just with a tintype, but with a real, soul-filled memory of something *human*. In a world where so much is digital, filtered, and fast, that genuine experience matters more than ever.

I also go the extra mile—always. Whether it’s staying late to perfect a plate, taking extra time to calm nerves, or making sure someone walks away with exactly what they hoped for, I never want anyone to feel like “just another client.” For me, it’s all about building confidence, rapport, and a lasting relationship.

And it doesn’t stop with clients. Within the tintype community, I believe strongly in encouragement over competition. I love lifting others up—celebrating their work, offering support, sharing what I’ve learned. There’s enough room at the table for all of us. Art thrives when we support one another, not when we hoard knowledge or treat each other like rivals. I’m not here to compete—I’m here to *create*, to enjoy what I do, and to cheer others on as they do the same.

I think what resonates with people is that nothing about *Eye of Rie* is manufactured. It’s all real. The chemistry, the process, the imperfections—and most of all, the human connection. I want every person who walks through my doors to feel like they’ve stepped into a slower, more thoughtful world where they matter, their story matters, and their image is something worth preserving.

That’s the heart of what I do. And I think that’s what’s helped build the reputation I have today.

Contact Info:

• Website: https://www.eyeofrie.com
• Instagram: @eyeofrie
• Facebook: https://facebook.com/eyeofrie