In 1990 Yager gave herself a sabbatical.
She took time off to study and rethink her approach, asking herself the question, "What makes art authentic?"
She spent the next two years studying the history, philosophy, and practices of jewelry making, thinking about the ways in which an artwork is connected to the history of art, as well as the time and place in which it is made.

Her goal became the creation of work that was "rooted in history, yet undeniably of its place and time."

A prehistoric Native American bone necklace inspired her to examine her own environment for readily available materials.

After a wide search for inspiration, Yager narrowed her focus to the sidewalk outside her studio in North Philadelphia.
Yager began to “beachcomb” the area in a search for inspiration in the things she saw every day.
She found spent bullet casings, broken auto glass, and plastic crack vials and caps.
Then she began to notice and closely study the plants that persisted in growing in cracks in the sidewalks.
In 1990 Yager gave herself a sabbatical. She took time off to study and rethink her approach, asking herself the question, "What makes art authentic?" She spent the next two years studying the history, philosophy, and practices of jewelry making, thinking about the ways in which an artwork is connected to the history of art, as well as the time and place in which it is made.
Her goal became the creation of work that was "rooted in history, yet undeniably of its place and time."
A prehistoric Native American bone necklace inspired her to examine her own environment for readily available materials. 
After a wide search for inspiration, Yager narrowed her focus to the sidewalk outside her studio in North Philadelphia. Yager began to “beachcomb” the area in a search for inspiration in the things she saw every day. She found spent bullet casings, broken auto glass, and plastic crack vials and caps. Then she began to notice and closely study the plants that persisted in growing in cracks in the sidewalks.
Jan Yager