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又是周末。冬天的哈尔滨,积雪覆盖的屋顶白得静谧。阳光透过窗户照进来,一地灿烂。父亲在光芒里挥舞着画笔,画箱、颜料、画框闪闪发光,一幅大大的俄罗斯风景画正徐徐展开……王同君托着腮,看父亲画画,教堂的钟声远远送来。不知画了多久,转身看到儿子入迷的眼神,问他:“好看么?”“好看。我长大也要当画家!”父亲微笑着摸摸王同君的头。父亲是位普通工人,美术是他的挚爱,他画画的样子一直刻在王同君心里。王同君说,画画对自己来说是与生俱来的事,所以,18岁考大学时,他只填了一个志愿——鲁
It is the weekend. Winter in Harbin, snow-covered roof white quiet. Sunshine through the window according to come in, a brilliant. His father waved brushes, paints, paint, picture frames in the light, and a big Russian landscape was slowly unfolding ...... Wang Tongjun held his cheek and saw his father painting. The bell of the church was far away. I do not know how long the painting, turned around and saw his son fascinated by the eyes and asked him: “Good-looking it? ” “Good-looking .I grew up to be an artist!” Father smiled and touched Wang Tongjun’s head. His father was an ordinary worker, his art was his beloved, and his painting was engraved in the heart of Wang Tongjun. Wang Tong-jun said that painting is an innate event for himself. Therefore, when he was 18, he only filled in one volunteer - Lu