Welcome to the Social Art Award 2025 – Online Gallery!
🌊 Dear friends of art and transformation, 🌊
A heartfelt thank you to all artists and creatives who submitted their powerful works for this year’s Social Art Award under the theme: “Planetary Healing – Blue Tribes for Ocean Health.” Your inspiring visions speak to ocean restoration, biodiversity, and reimagining our coexistence with all life forms on Earth.
After receiving 922 submissions from across all continents, and concluding a very active public voting phase, the Social Art Award now enters its next chapter:
🔹 What’s next?
The professional jury panel is currently reviewing and selecting the TOP 100 entries that will be featured in the official Social Art Award 2025 book. In parallel, the two public voting winners will move forward as wildcards into the final jury round.
🔹 Coming up:
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Shortlisted artists (TOP 10) will be announced by mid-June.
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Winners of the Social Art Award 2025 will be revealed at our Online Award Ceremony on July 2, 2025.
We invite you to stay connected as we celebrate the power of Social Art to drive dialogue, awareness, and collective transformation.
Let’s continue to amplify art as a force for Planetary Healing.
151
Jellytrash
642
Title:
Jellytrash
Jellytrash
Author:
Catharina Lindeskov Nielsen
Catharina Lindeskov Nielsen
Description:
Imagine diving into the deep blue of the ocean. Everything around you is bathed in soft, shimmering light. Suddenly, they glide past you – graceful, weightless, almost extraterrestrial: jellyfish. Their bodies pulsate with every gentle current of water, their tentacles float in space like liquid rays of light. They are creatures of silence, transparency, and fragility. And yet, they are survivors, masters of adaptation. In my works, I capture this almost magical nature of the jellyfish – but there is a dark truth hidden among them. Plastic bags, invisible at first glance, seemingly flow with the movement of the jellyfish. Only upon closer inspection do you realize: What seems so perfectly embedded in the environment does not belong here. It is not part of this dazzling, vibrant marine space. It is a foreign body. A disruptive factor. A silent threat. My art is an exploration of precisely this duality. The acrylic panels I work on are translucent—they allow light to pass through, they have depth. They evoke the fluid, floating nature of the jellyfish themselves. I use vibrant colors, almost unrealistically bright, to draw attention to these wonderful creatures. Their bodies seem to pulsate, as if breathing in the gentle rhythm of the water. The LEDs that illuminate my works enhance this effect: they make the jellyfish seem almost alive, as if they could move out of the picture into the space at any moment. And yet there remains this one contrast, this one element that doesn't fit organically. The plastic bags. I deliberately paint them with the same elegance with which I depict the jellyfish. I let them creep into the picture as if they were part of the natural order. Because that is precisely the bitter reality: plastic has long since become a part of our ecosystem. It is everywhere. It is no longer just waste—it is an element that has crept in, that has taken over nature, that will not go away. What happens to us when what we have created begins to turn against us? The jellyfish in my works are not just aesthetic objects. They are survivors. They are one of the few species that benefit from the destruction of the oceans. While coral reefs die, while fish and whales perish, while the oceans are thrown out of balance by plastic, overfishing, and climate change, jellyfish continue to spread. They take the place of others. They adapt where others fail. They are the harbingers of a changing ecosystem. But do we really want to live in a world where only the survivors remain? Where the wonders of the sea are reduced to a handful of resilient species? My art is a mirror. It shows beauty and threat at the same time. It draws you into a world that enchants at first glance, but at second glance reveals a deeper, disturbing truth. It invites you to look more closely. It asks questions without forcing answers. It challenges you to recognize the connection between beauty and destruction – and to understand that we are the ones who can make a difference. Statement on the Social Art Award and the connection to the artwork Art has the power not only to amaze us, but also to rethink. The Social Art Award 2024 honors precisely this kind of art – art that is not only beautiful, but that makes a difference. Art that looks, that is uncomfortable, that forces us to be not just observers, but also doers. My work Jellytrash is exactly that: an invitation to look. It is easy to admire the beauty of the jellyfish. It is harder to notice the plastic bags among them – and even harder to take responsibility for them. But that is precisely the challenge of our time: We must learn not to overlook the consequences of our actions. The Social Art Award is dedicated to the theme "Eco-Creation – Reconnecting with Nature." And that's exactly what my art is about: the connection between humans and nature, the fragile balance we often take for granted. We've become alienated from nature—we see it as a resource, a backdrop, something that belongs to us. But the sea belongs to no one. It's a living system that would function better without our interference. My artwork challenges us to rethink this connection. It shows us that we don't exist separately from nature—we are part of it, whether we like it or not. Every piece of plastic floating in the ocean was once in our hands. Every object we carelessly discard finds its way back. The jellyfish in my work don't just swim between color and light—they swim between our decisions, between our negligence, between the remnants of our civilization. But I believe that art has the power to change things. That it can evoke emotions that make us act differently. That it can tear us out of our indifference. My work is not a manifesto, not an accusation, but an invitation to reflect. I want to touch people, fascinate them, make them linger—and perhaps re-examine their own relationship with nature. The Social Art Award offers a platform for artists who take on precisely this challenge. It provides space for art that doesn't just exist in galleries, but carries a message. I would be proud and grateful to be part of this award with Jellytrash – because I believe that art can change the world. And because it's time for us to stop being mere admirers of nature and become its protectors.
Imagine diving into the deep blue of the ocean. Everything around you is bathed in soft, shimmering light. Suddenly, they glide past you – graceful, weightless, almost extraterrestrial: jellyfish. Their bodies pulsate with every gentle current of water, their tentacles float in space like liquid rays of light. They are creatures of silence, transparency, and fragility. And yet, they are survivors, masters of adaptation. In my works, I capture this almost magical nature of the jellyfish – but there is a dark truth hidden among them. Plastic bags, invisible at first glance, seemingly flow with the movement of the jellyfish. Only upon closer inspection do you realize: What seems so perfectly embedded in the environment does not belong here. It is not part of this dazzling, vibrant marine space. It is a foreign body. A disruptive factor. A silent threat. My art is an exploration of precisely this duality. The acrylic panels I work on are translucent—they allow light to pass through, they have depth. They evoke the fluid, floating nature of the jellyfish themselves. I use vibrant colors, almost unrealistically bright, to draw attention to these wonderful creatures. Their bodies seem to pulsate, as if breathing in the gentle rhythm of the water. The LEDs that illuminate my works enhance this effect: they make the jellyfish seem almost alive, as if they could move out of the picture into the space at any moment. And yet there remains this one contrast, this one element that doesn't fit organically. The plastic bags. I deliberately paint them with the same elegance with which I depict the jellyfish. I let them creep into the picture as if they were part of the natural order. Because that is precisely the bitter reality: plastic has long since become a part of our ecosystem. It is everywhere. It is no longer just waste—it is an element that has crept in, that has taken over nature, that will not go away. What happens to us when what we have created begins to turn against us? The jellyfish in my works are not just aesthetic objects. They are survivors. They are one of the few species that benefit from the destruction of the oceans. While coral reefs die, while fish and whales perish, while the oceans are thrown out of balance by plastic, overfishing, and climate change, jellyfish continue to spread. They take the place of others. They adapt where others fail. They are the harbingers of a changing ecosystem. But do we really want to live in a world where only the survivors remain? Where the wonders of the sea are reduced to a handful of resilient species? My art is a mirror. It shows beauty and threat at the same time. It draws you into a world that enchants at first glance, but at second glance reveals a deeper, disturbing truth. It invites you to look more closely. It asks questions without forcing answers. It challenges you to recognize the connection between beauty and destruction – and to understand that we are the ones who can make a difference. Statement on the Social Art Award and the connection to the artwork Art has the power not only to amaze us, but also to rethink. The Social Art Award 2024 honors precisely this kind of art – art that is not only beautiful, but that makes a difference. Art that looks, that is uncomfortable, that forces us to be not just observers, but also doers. My work Jellytrash is exactly that: an invitation to look. It is easy to admire the beauty of the jellyfish. It is harder to notice the plastic bags among them – and even harder to take responsibility for them. But that is precisely the challenge of our time: We must learn not to overlook the consequences of our actions. The Social Art Award is dedicated to the theme "Eco-Creation – Reconnecting with Nature." And that's exactly what my art is about: the connection between humans and nature, the fragile balance we often take for granted. We've become alienated from nature—we see it as a resource, a backdrop, something that belongs to us. But the sea belongs to no one. It's a living system that would function better without our interference. My artwork challenges us to rethink this connection. It shows us that we don't exist separately from nature—we are part of it, whether we like it or not. Every piece of plastic floating in the ocean was once in our hands. Every object we carelessly discard finds its way back. The jellyfish in my work don't just swim between color and light—they swim between our decisions, between our negligence, between the remnants of our civilization. But I believe that art has the power to change things. That it can evoke emotions that make us act differently. That it can tear us out of our indifference. My work is not a manifesto, not an accusation, but an invitation to reflect. I want to touch people, fascinate them, make them linger—and perhaps re-examine their own relationship with nature. The Social Art Award offers a platform for artists who take on precisely this challenge. It provides space for art that doesn't just exist in galleries, but carries a message. I would be proud and grateful to be part of this award with Jellytrash – because I believe that art can change the world. And because it's time for us to stop being mere admirers of nature and become its protectors.
Description:
Imagine diving into the deep blue of the ocean. Everything around you is bathed in soft, shimmering light. Suddenly, they glide past you – graceful, weightless, almost extraterrestrial: jellyfish. Their bodies pulsate with every gentle current of water, their tentacles float in space like liquid rays of light. They are creatures of silence, transparency, and fragility. And yet, they are survivors, masters of adaptation. In my works, I capture this almost magical nature of the jellyfish – but there is a dark truth hidden among them. Plastic bags, invisible at first glance, seemingly flow with the movement of the jellyfish. Only upon closer inspection do you realize: What seems so perfectly embedded in the environment does not belong here. It is not part of this dazzling, vibrant marine space. It is a foreign body. A disruptive factor. A silent threat. My art is an exploration of precisely this duality. The acrylic panels I work on are translucent—they allow light to pass through, they have depth. They evoke the fluid, floating nature of the jellyfish themselves. I use vibrant colors, almost unrealistically bright, to draw attention to these wonderful creatures. Their bodies seem to pulsate, as if breathing in the gentle rhythm of the water. The LEDs that illuminate my works enhance this effect: they make the jellyfish seem almost alive, as if they could move out of the picture into the space at any moment. And yet there remains this one contrast, this one element that doesn't fit organically. The plastic bags. I deliberately paint them with the same elegance with which I depict the jellyfish. I let them creep into the picture as if they were part of the natural order. Because that is precisely the bitter reality: plastic has long since become a part of our ecosystem. It is everywhere. It is no longer just waste—it is an element that has crept in, that has taken over nature, that will not go away. What happens to us when what we have created begins to turn against us? The jellyfish in my works are not just aesthetic objects. They are survivors. They are one of the few species that benefit from the destruction of the oceans. While coral reefs die, while fish and whales perish, while the oceans are thrown out of balance by plastic, overfishing, and climate change, jellyfish continue to spread. They take the place of others. They adapt where others fail. They are the harbingers of a changing ecosystem. But do we really want to live in a world where only the survivors remain? Where the wonders of the sea are reduced to a handful of resilient species? My art is a mirror. It shows beauty and threat at the same time. It draws you into a world that enchants at first glance, but at second glance reveals a deeper, disturbing truth. It invites you to look more closely. It asks questions without forcing answers. It challenges you to recognize the connection between beauty and destruction – and to understand that we are the ones who can make a difference. Statement on the Social Art Award and the connection to the artwork Art has the power not only to amaze us, but also to rethink. The Social Art Award 2024 honors precisely this kind of art – art that is not only beautiful, but that makes a difference. Art that looks, that is uncomfortable, that forces us to be not just observers, but also doers. My work Jellytrash is exactly that: an invitation to look. It is easy to admire the beauty of the jellyfish. It is harder to notice the plastic bags among them – and even harder to take responsibility for them. But that is precisely the challenge of our time: We must learn not to overlook the consequences of our actions. The Social Art Award is dedicated to the theme "Eco-Creation – Reconnecting with Nature." And that's exactly what my art is about: the connection between humans and nature, the fragile balance we often take for granted. We've become alienated from nature—we see it as a resource, a backdrop, something that belongs to us. But the sea belongs to no one. It's a living system that would function better without our interference. My artwork challenges us to rethink this connection. It shows us that we don't exist separately from nature—we are part of it, whether we like it or not. Every piece of plastic floating in the ocean was once in our hands. Every object we carelessly discard finds its way back. The jellyfish in my work don't just swim between color and light—they swim between our decisions, between our negligence, between the remnants of our civilization. But I believe that art has the power to change things. That it can evoke emotions that make us act differently. That it can tear us out of our indifference. My work is not a manifesto, not an accusation, but an invitation to reflect. I want to touch people, fascinate them, make them linger—and perhaps re-examine their own relationship with nature. The Social Art Award offers a platform for artists who take on precisely this challenge. It provides space for art that doesn't just exist in galleries, but carries a message. I would be proud and grateful to be part of this award with Jellytrash – because I believe that art can change the world. And because it's time for us to stop being mere admirers of nature and become its protectors.
Imagine diving into the deep blue of the ocean. Everything around you is bathed in soft, shimmering light. Suddenly, they glide past you – graceful, weightless, almost extraterrestrial: jellyfish. Their bodies pulsate with every gentle current of water, their tentacles float in space like liquid rays of light. They are creatures of silence, transparency, and fragility. And yet, they are survivors, masters of adaptation. In my works, I capture this almost magical nature of the jellyfish – but there is a dark truth hidden among them. Plastic bags, invisible at first glance, seemingly flow with the movement of the jellyfish. Only upon closer inspection do you realize: What seems so perfectly embedded in the environment does not belong here. It is not part of this dazzling, vibrant marine space. It is a foreign body. A disruptive factor. A silent threat. My art is an exploration of precisely this duality. The acrylic panels I work on are translucent—they allow light to pass through, they have depth. They evoke the fluid, floating nature of the jellyfish themselves. I use vibrant colors, almost unrealistically bright, to draw attention to these wonderful creatures. Their bodies seem to pulsate, as if breathing in the gentle rhythm of the water. The LEDs that illuminate my works enhance this effect: they make the jellyfish seem almost alive, as if they could move out of the picture into the space at any moment. And yet there remains this one contrast, this one element that doesn't fit organically. The plastic bags. I deliberately paint them with the same elegance with which I depict the jellyfish. I let them creep into the picture as if they were part of the natural order. Because that is precisely the bitter reality: plastic has long since become a part of our ecosystem. It is everywhere. It is no longer just waste—it is an element that has crept in, that has taken over nature, that will not go away. What happens to us when what we have created begins to turn against us? The jellyfish in my works are not just aesthetic objects. They are survivors. They are one of the few species that benefit from the destruction of the oceans. While coral reefs die, while fish and whales perish, while the oceans are thrown out of balance by plastic, overfishing, and climate change, jellyfish continue to spread. They take the place of others. They adapt where others fail. They are the harbingers of a changing ecosystem. But do we really want to live in a world where only the survivors remain? Where the wonders of the sea are reduced to a handful of resilient species? My art is a mirror. It shows beauty and threat at the same time. It draws you into a world that enchants at first glance, but at second glance reveals a deeper, disturbing truth. It invites you to look more closely. It asks questions without forcing answers. It challenges you to recognize the connection between beauty and destruction – and to understand that we are the ones who can make a difference. Statement on the Social Art Award and the connection to the artwork Art has the power not only to amaze us, but also to rethink. The Social Art Award 2024 honors precisely this kind of art – art that is not only beautiful, but that makes a difference. Art that looks, that is uncomfortable, that forces us to be not just observers, but also doers. My work Jellytrash is exactly that: an invitation to look. It is easy to admire the beauty of the jellyfish. It is harder to notice the plastic bags among them – and even harder to take responsibility for them. But that is precisely the challenge of our time: We must learn not to overlook the consequences of our actions. The Social Art Award is dedicated to the theme "Eco-Creation – Reconnecting with Nature." And that's exactly what my art is about: the connection between humans and nature, the fragile balance we often take for granted. We've become alienated from nature—we see it as a resource, a backdrop, something that belongs to us. But the sea belongs to no one. It's a living system that would function better without our interference. My artwork challenges us to rethink this connection. It shows us that we don't exist separately from nature—we are part of it, whether we like it or not. Every piece of plastic floating in the ocean was once in our hands. Every object we carelessly discard finds its way back. The jellyfish in my work don't just swim between color and light—they swim between our decisions, between our negligence, between the remnants of our civilization. But I believe that art has the power to change things. That it can evoke emotions that make us act differently. That it can tear us out of our indifference. My work is not a manifesto, not an accusation, but an invitation to reflect. I want to touch people, fascinate them, make them linger—and perhaps re-examine their own relationship with nature. The Social Art Award offers a platform for artists who take on precisely this challenge. It provides space for art that doesn't just exist in galleries, but carries a message. I would be proud and grateful to be part of this award with Jellytrash – because I believe that art can change the world. And because it's time for us to stop being mere admirers of nature and become its protectors.