Aundrea Wilkes walks like a dancer — lithely and gracefully. When she sits, her back is straight, and as she talks, the light bounces off her dark, wavy hair, which is tied back tightly. Her body seems to fall naturally into a dancer’s careful pose and her brown eyes are dramatically aglow and intense.

Wilkes is every bit the passionate dancer, and her work at Penobscot Theatre, where she is volunteering as choreographer for the upcoming productions of “The Wizard of Oz,” “The Fantasticks,” and “Godspell,” is a mark of her commitment. Lately, with rehearsals that begin by 9 a.m., go until noon, and kick off again in the evening, Wilkes has been consumed with dance. She eats, sleeps and dreams dance.

But Wilkes does not dance any more.

It’s not your usual case of “those who can’t, teach,” because Aundrea Wilkes can dance. She started taking lessons when she was a 3-year-old and living on Jekyll Island off the coast of Georgia. Her mother, who had a love for dance but never studied it, would take the child to the mainland for classes. Later, at the University of Wisconsin on a full scholarship to study dance, Wilkes wowed them with her movement. While earning her degree, she became the staff choreographer at a children’s theater in Madison. It was the beginning of her professional career.

Then, in her junior year, Wilkes was in a car accident and broke her ankle. Her advisers told her that a damaged ankle did not bode well for a career of principal dancing roles, so Wilkes turned her energies toward teaching.

But there was more. Before the accident, Wilkes had noticed she was becoming unusually fatigued from vigorous work. Her body swelled, and she didn’t have the vivacity and flexibility of earlier years. Her hair began to fall out and, some days, she felt arthritic.

“Stress” was what the doctors said, and Wilkes reluctantly believed them.

She pressed on and, in 1987, took a teaching job at the Thomas School of Dance in Bangor. But in the first week, Wilkes passed out in church and was sent to the hospital.

This time the diagnosis was systemic lupus, an inflammatory disease that most commonly affects the skin, joints, and organs with varying acute episodes and remissions.

Despite the significant physical pain and emotional disappointment, Wilkes was determined to keep her job, and continued to teach though she walked with a cane. She followed up on a commitment to choreograph “Guys and Dolls” at Penobscot Theatre, doing much of the work from her bed during a series of hospital stays. The night of the final dress rehearsal, she was hospitalized and never saw the show.

Five years later, after many bouts with the disease, Wilkes, 29, lifts her arms in a ballet arc above her head as she directs the little people of Munchkinland. When the rehearsal ends, the children line up in a row on the stage.

Wilkes bends over slightly at the waist, puts her hands on her hips, and says in a full, raspy voice:

“Miss Aundrea has a doctor’s appointment again today, so I have to leave. I want everybody to respect everybody, be quiet, and do what you’re expected to do.”

The children nod affirmatively, and two interns, Susan Murphy and Melanie Shippee, take the helm.

Once an inspiration to students who watched her move, Wilkes is now an inspiration on a deeper level — as both teacher and example. Murphy, whom Wilkes calls “her body,” is 17 and heading off to New York University in the fall. She appreciates the range of lessons Wilkes has offered.

The young dancer explains: “A lot of people would have stopped all together, but she never gave up, so that tells me I should never give up.”

Such inspiration is a valuable element to any production, says director Tom Logan, who has worked with Wilkes on several musical theater projects. He was a cast member in a recent production which Wilkes choreographed for Bangor Community Theatre. During that rehearsal period, Wilkes was hospitalized for 12 days because the lupus flared up. Her absence did not prevent the choreography or the show from going on, however. In fact, says Logan, everyone wanted to work a little harder so Wilkes would be pleased with their progress upon her return.

Some directors might hesitate to work with Wilkes because she might not show up for work or may need to leave because of exhaustion. But Logan calls her a “godsend.”

It’s more than inspiration that has won Wilkes recognition both in Bangor and Harvard University, where she recently taught movement classes at the American Repertory Theatre. Everyone agrees that Wilkes has a way of challenging dancers and of making non-dancers look good on stage. Talent, training, and imagination have a lot to do with her success, but Wilkes knows that it is a deep love of dance, and the constant support of her doctor and mother (who moved from Georgia to Maine to be with Wilkes) that have kept her active in the dance world despite a debilitating sickness.

“I love what I do,” says Wilkes through a wide smile and full laugh.

“I’m still scared because I never know when it’s going to hit me. It’s the uncertainty and lack of control that are difficult. You have to learn to live with lupus, or it will consume you. And I won’t let it consume me.”

“The Wizard of Oz” will be performed 7 p.m. July 10 and 11, and 2 p.m. July 12 at the Penobscot Theatre. For information, call 942-