Jean-Claude was my dentist for a few years in London. He worked in a basement clinic daily. Jean-Claude was a absolute perfectionist. I noticed that he had a photograph of his two sons who lived somewhere in the Middle East. The fillings and a tooth that he made for me were perfect replicas of my teeth. Jean-Claude once joked that I should put his name next to mine when exhibiting my work. I developed problems with my teeth when I was going through a stressful period in my middle age crisis. Thanks to Jean-Claude, after the treatment I did not have to go back to him for a while. One day, I received a letter from the clinic that Jean-Claude suddenly passed away. This is homage to Jean-Claude, but also records of my crisis and ageing.