From Sketch to Cover: How Eric Pung Brought this Issue to Life
Before you even know their name, the cover speaks. It’s bright. Bold. Alive. It hums with energy, the kind you don’t just see, but feel in your chest. That’s the magic of this month’s cover, and it comes from an artist whose work is deeply personal, powerfully intuitive, and full of care.
When the opportunity landed in their lap, this Denver-based illustrator felt both thrilled and a little terrified. “If I’m not nervous, then I don’t care enough,” says illustrator Eric Pung (he/they). That nervous energy, they believe, is often the starting point of something meaningful. And in this case, it was.
Their artistic journey began long before degrees or deadlines. “I’ve always been a creative person,” they shared. “I remember drawing and painting since I was very young. I would watch Bob Ross on PBS every day after school.” Art was never just a hobby it was, and still is, the thing that keeps them going. It’s this quiet devotion that led them to earn a BFA in animation and an MFA in illustration, but more importantly, it shaped their unique voice as a visual storyteller.
When the OFM team approached him to design a cover highlighting trans subjectivity and trans mental health, the weight of that responsibility wasn’t lost on Pung. He understood the stakes not just artistically, but emotionally and politically. “This issue is important and meaningful to people in our community,” he says. “We wanted the mood to be powerful and positive.” And that’s exactly what he delivered.
The final piece is rich with texture and color, grounded in dynamic ink and brush linework, and layered with tactile materials like paper and stone. It draws on a superhero spirit—Think Katniss Everdeen energy—and aims to be a counterforce to the heaviness many of us carry. “There is power and joy and tenacity within us to keep going,” they say. “I want this figure to reflect that.”
This kind of emotionally grounded approach is woven through all their work. Whether it’s exploring the evolving relationship between nature and technology, or quietly infusing a sense of humor into darker themes, their art feels like a balm, a soft space in a hard world. “I grew up pre-internet,” they note, “and I’ve seen how our culture has shifted. I love to garden. I love to laugh. So I try to create images that reflect that balance.”
His process is a mix of old-school hands-on and modern-day tech. “I use both digital and traditional tools. One isn’t better than the other,” he says. Initial sketches happen in messy, freeing “visual throw-up” thumbnails. From there, he refines, revises, researches, and eventually inks and colors, all while staying rooted in his gut instincts and playful experimentation. “It’s not about which iPad or brush you use—It’s what you do with it.”
But perhaps the most touching part of their journey is their connection to community past and present. They speak lovingly of Denver mentors like Tony Ortega and Bruce Gomez, whose belief in their talent helped shape them into the artist they are today. From painting Botticelli’s Primavera in an adult watercolor class at age 12 to borrowing “fancy pastels” in middle school, these early memories weren’t just about technique—They were about being seen.
Now, he’s paying it forward. With every line, color, and brushstroke, he reminds us of something bigger than art itself: that vulnerability can be a superpower, that joy can be radical, and that representation, when done with love and intention, can be transformative.
So the next time you see this month’s cover, pause. Look closer. Know that behind the textures, the colors, and the power pose is an artist who believes in this community deeply, who was once a kid watching Bob Ross and is now using his voice to uplift others. And if he could whisper one thing to that younger version of himself, and maybe to you, too, it would be: “Be patient with yourself. Stay true to yourself. You’re on the right track.”
Cover art courtesy of Eric Pung
