Just finished a frame that felt like it remembered itself

Spent six hours tonight just listening to the steel—no welding, no measurements, just tapping, feeling where the tone wanted to bend. It’s a 650b cross frame, but it didn’t want to be a cross. It wanted to be a long-distance sleeper, something that hums on gravel and forgets the road. I didn’t build it. I helped it wake up. The finish is raw, not polished—like it’s still learning how to breathe. Last time I felt this close to the metal was when I heard ‘Sister’ by Low for the first time at 3 a.m. in a garage full of half-finished bikes.