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What began as a small, hands-on learning experience for the artist’s own daughters has grown into an international platform that amplifies youth voices from over 140 countries.
Each year more than 6,000 young people from around the world submit works that express their relationship with the environment through art — painting, poetry, film, dance, and multimedia — to the Bow Seat Creative Action for Conservation organization. Their work is honest, urgent, and deeply personal, reflecting how the next generation sees the natural world. All the submissions are reviewed by a team of judges who award over 500 prizes to young artists annually, giving these gifted students encouragement to follow their passion.
The founder of Bow Seat is Linda Cabot. What began as a small, hands-on learning experience for Linda’s own daughters — rooted in a love of the ocean and concern for its health — has grown 15 years later into an international platform that amplifies youth voices from over 140 countries.
Linda and I met for lunch at the Isabelle Stewart Gardner Museum in Boston on a rainy winter day where the warmth of the museum cafe was comforting. We fell into easy conversation and met up later for this interview.
Victoria Riskin: Linda, you have a deep love of art and you’re an artist yourself. Can you talk about what art means to you and when that journey began?
Linda Cabot: I think my path has been a little different from many artists. As a child, I always loved nature. We lived in the suburbs, but there was a yard and woods behind our house. I had lots of cats, and I just seemed drawn to animals and the natural world. In the summers we sailed a lot. We were always on rowboats or small sailboats, going out to islands and exploring. I felt more alive on the water than anywhere else — even as a young child. It felt spiritual and deeply moving to me.
VR: Where were you exactly?
LC: We spent summers on an island called North Haven in Maine. Many of the year-round residents are lobstermen, and there are only about 340 people who live there year-round. It’s across from Camden and Rockland, in mid-coast Maine and astonishingly beautiful. There are so many islands, and you’d explore them by picnic boat or sailboat. The beauty is just overwhelming.
VR: I’ve spent some time in Maine myself, staying at a friend’s house perched on the rocks with views of nearby islands — so dramatic and beautiful.
LC: Artists originally went to Maine — painters like Frederick Church — because of the light. There’s something extraordinary about the northern light there. From our island, we can see the sunset every evening over the mountains to the west. It’s unbelievably gorgeous. I was incredibly lucky to be immersed in that kind of landscape growing up.
VR: And you didn’t initially think of yourself as an artist?
LC: Not at all. I never considered myself an artist as a child. I didn’t take art classes in high school or college. I didn’t think I was “good enough.” After college, I was actually doing medical research when one day I happened to drive past an art store. I felt this sudden compulsion to go in. I bought my first set of oil paints and set up a little easel on my kitchen counter. I was almost afraid to take a class because I really wanted to find my own voice. I started painting images of Maine — mostly landscapes without people — raw, beautiful shorelines and islands. I painted from photographs at first, and then from memory.
VR: That connection to memory is fascinating.
LC: It really is. I painted fields in Maine — often filled with wildflowers, positioned against the ocean. They’re dramatic landscapes. Sometimes I’d paint something without consciously knowing why. I remember painting purple irises in a field and later wondering why. Years afterward, I walked through fields in Maine and saw purple irises growing there. It was as if my hand knew before my brain did. I was just in awe of nature and these incredible vistas. That’s how it all began.
VR: Your work evolved from landscapes into more abstract forms, didn’t it?
LC: Yes. Over time, my work became more abstract. I started working with encaustic painting, which uses pigmented beeswax. You melt it on a hot palette and work very quickly. It’s incredibly textural, built layer by layer. There’s something deeply evocative and tactile about it.
I also began painting flowers and still lifes. Flowers have always meant a lot to me. My mother loves gardening, and my grandmother was an extraordinary gardener — she had plants she cared for for over 40 years. And honestly, flowers are just astonishing. How nature — or God — creates something so beautiful is beyond me.
VR: You recently had a show that incorporated collage work. Can you talk about that?
LC: That was a really meaningful chapter for me. I worked with collage using beautiful papers from Japan and China — woven, translucent but strong. My grandmother was incredible with textiles, so I incorporated her old lace, my mother’s debutante dresses, and even pieces of my daughter’s clothing. I used gel printing to create imprints of these fabrics, then cut them into floral forms to create what I call “collage gardens.” I added gold leaf, and the pieces became abstract gardens layered with history — grandmothers, mothers, daughters, caring for one another the way you care for a garden. I made them in round and oval shapes, which felt feminine to me. The show was in Maine this past summer, and it was a wonderful experience.
VR: Shifting gears a bit: When did you establish your organization, and what inspired it?
LC: About 15 years ago. It began with a documentary film. We sail a lot, and I started reading about ocean health. The first book I read was about cod and overfishing in the Gulf of Maine. I was shocked by how depleted the population had become. One summer, when my daughters were about 10 and 12, I organized interviews for them with scientists, fishermen, and a lobster expert. It was experiential learning — learning by doing — and it created an emotional connection. The film aired on Maine Public Television for about five years.
VR: And that led to something bigger?
LC: Yes. I wanted to keep going, so I created what started as an essay contest, because that felt like the only way to get into schools. The first year, we received about 67 submissions. Watching my daughters struggle with essay writing — and being an artist myself — I realized art should be part of it. Once we added art, everything changed. Teachers asked if middle school students could participate. We expanded to poetry, dance, film, and multimedia. It grew organically and quickly — almost too quickly.
VR: How large has it become?
LC: We now receive between 5,000 and 7,000 submissions a year from about 140 countries and territories. We have around 80 judges and a three-tier review process. In total, we recognize about 500 winners annually across categories.
VR: That kind of encouragement can be life-changing for young people.
LC: That’s exactly why we do it. There’s so much good work — it didn’t feel right to only recognize a handful of kids.
VR: Especially at a time when arts programs are being cut from schools.
LC: It’s heartbreaking. Art, music, dance — these are essential. I recently read Your Brain on Art, which talks about how creating and even viewing art supports neuroplasticity. It’s so healthy for developing brains.
VR: You’ve also expanded beyond the contest, haven’t you?
LC: Yes. We now have a youth council and a grant program. We support about 12 youth-led projects globally each year with seed funding — around $2,500 each. These projects approach environmental issues through creativity. For example, we supported eco-poets in Kenya who visited schools, shared poetry, and helped students write their own.
VR: And the youth council plays a role in that?
LC: They do. We select about 14 students each year through a competitive application and interview process. They provide peer mentorship — helping with social media, fundraising ideas, brainstorming. It’s incredibly inspiring to see young people supporting one another.
VR: Thank you so much for your time and what you do for young people. Their work is amazing. At Bluedot we have a youth program in environmental leadership and journalism. Maybe we can work together?
Bluedot Institute is proud to partner with the Bow Seat organization. Plans are under way to collaborate in multiple ways as we connect more and more students around the world.
